It's in the Blood
by OurScars
Summary: Just when things are beginning to get boring for the clan, a young sorcerer shows up with the best of intentions. But will the clan ever be able to trust a magus again? And why does this newcomer act so weird around Hudson? Please Review.
1. Chapter 1: A Violent Welcome

Disclaimer: I do not own Gargoyles or any related characters.

Chapter One: A Violent Welcome

"You three stay here and guard the clock tower," Goliath ordered from atop the balcony. To his left stood Elisa, donned in her usual red jacket. On his right stood his longtime friend and mentor, Hudson. Elisa had just come up from the police station below in a big huff. Once again, it seemed, that rich jerk Xanatos was up to something. It had to do with robots, as usual, but Brooklyn had lost interest after that. He knew by the way Goliath had glanced over at them that they wouldn't be going anywhere.

"You got it, Goliath," Lexington called from across the room. He didn't mind staying home tonight. It was his turn with the television, and he didn't want to go on some recon mission and miss it.

"And do pay a little attention to Bronx, lads," Hudson called down to them. "Dang mutt sleeps all night then won't leave me alone when he next wakes up," he huffed to the two on the balcony as they turned to leave.

"Bye, boys," Elisa called as she closed the glass door of the clock's face.

"It's time to fly!" Lex called out as soon as their forms vanished into the night. With a mighty leap for one so small, he crossed the room and landed in front of the television. Nimble hands shoved the helicopter flight simulator into the game console and switched on the TV. Brooklyn sat down in Hudson's recliner and watched Lex play his game. Frankly, he was still exhausted from the night before. He had foiled six robberies in one night, a new personal record.

"Come on, Bronx!" Broadway called out to the beast. Blue ears perked up at the call, and a large tongue lolled out the side of his mouth. Broadway grabbed a beaten up softball from the table and tossed it high into the air. Bronx didn't react at all to the ball, though his eyes followed it all the way up. As it came down, the beast sprang from his seat, and snapped the toy up in his jaws. "Good boy, now bring it here." The 'dog's' ears twitched at the command, but he didn't move. "You're going to make me come and get it, aren't ya?" Broadway took one step forward, his arms extended playfully. Bronx let out a low growl and crouched deeper into his stance. But before the giant gargoyle took another step, something caught his eye.

It was a figure, its silhouette stark against the yellow glass of the clock's face. The figure appeared human, of medium stature, and male from what he could tell. This intruder stood slightly hunched over, evidently examining the giant clock's huge gears with a keen interest. Broadway blinked once and turned to look strait on. There was nothing. He was ready to dismiss it when he spotted the figure again. Now on the other side of the balcony, it was walking around one of the girders that held up the clock's face.

Careful not to blink, Broadway watched as the figure slowly circled the beam and vanished behind it. He waited a second for the shadow to reappear around the other side of the beam, but it never did. Taking a step forward, he moved to check it out. A quiet hum caught his ear, and he turned to see the intruder only a few feet to his left, this time looking at the entire clock from a distance. Bronx dropped his ball as he too spotted the figure.

No longer silhouetted by the lights outside, Broadway could see the intruder clearly now. It was a young man, sixteen or seventeen at most. Garbed in jeans and a blue buttoned shirt that was just a little too big for him, it gave the impression of a robe. Dark brown hair was cut short. His arm shifted to stroke a smooth chin, and his sleeve fell down to his elbow, revealing five watches of all different types strapped to his right arm.

"Hey!" Broadway called out, his tone intentionally harsh. The boy nearly jumped out of his skin, and turned to look at him with eyes as wide as saucers. His eyes were the most striking blue, seemingly lit from within. "What do you think you're doing?" The initial shock gone, the boy seemed to settle, his hands vanishing into his pockets.

"I'm just looking at this clock," he answered, turning his attention back to the giant machine. "It was just so big, I had to know how it worked."

"Hey, Broadway!" Brooklyn called from across the room, "What are you doing?" Broadway glanced over his shoulder and stepped to the side.

"We've got an uninvited guest," the giant called back. He waved his arm to the boy.

"What are you talking about?" Lex asked staring at him with intense confusion.

"What am I -?" Broadway started, but his words were caught in his throat as he looked down. The human had vanished. He looked around franticly, but Bronx beat him to it. The beast issued a low growl and advanced towards the balcony. Sure enough, the intruder was up there once again, leaning over the gears. "There's no way," Broadway muttered.

"Hey, buddy," Brooklyn called out, getting out of the chair. "Are you lost?"

"Nope, not lost," the intruder called back, not looking up from the giant gears.

"How did he even get up here? We're above a police station," Lex said as he got up from his game.

"That's a good question," Brooklyn replied, "You've got some serious explaining to do there, kid!" Finally the intruder looked up from the clock, and seemed to notice them for the first time. He walked down the steps to stand just a few feet from the monsters.

"Now how did you get in here?" Brooklyn asked, taking a step forward.

"Through the door," the boy said, pointing back at the door on the clock's face. Brooklyn looked stunned for a moment, but quickly thought of another question.

"You know," Lex said as Brooklyn interrogated the intruder, "He knows where we live. We might have to move again."

"What?" Broadway gasped.

"Well, if somebody knows where we are, we won't be safe during the day."

"No!" Broadway growled, slamming his fist into his hand, "We're not going to lose another home!" His eyes flared white and he charged forward with a roar that seemed to shake the room. The plan was to subdue the intruder until Elisa got back, then she could figure out what to do with him. He reached out, ready to grab the boy. Brooklyn stepped out of the giant gargoyle's way as he bore down on his victim. His hands closed around the boy's shoulders, but touched nothing but air. Broadway had seen it, but just barely.

With lightning reflexes, the boy had ducked and stepped to the side as Broadway had grabbed at him, letting the giant go right by him. The boy placed his hands in his pockets as Broadway charged by. Lexington came next, right behind his large friend. He leaped at the intruder, his eyes lighting up as well. But as he closed in, the boy ducked at the last second, and Lex sailed right over him. Figuring that the other two knew what they were doing, Brooklyn attacked as well. More cautious than the other two, he did not charge in, but rather just reached out to try and grab him. He was foiled by a quick sidestep. A second grab followed the first, but was dodged just as easily. His eyes lit up with frustration and his next attack was a full-blown swipe.

It never even came close. The boy ducked and spun around him, taking care to step over his tail. Broadway recovered and attacked again, clawing out at him. He stepped back out of the way, then immediately jumped to avoid Lexington's tail swipe. As he landed, he was forced to turn out of the way as Bronx charged at him. There was a brief pause, and the boy's eyes darted as he noticed where he found himself.

During the fight, the gargoyles had managed to place themselves on all four sides, eliminating any escape route. They all stood still for a moment, judging their next move. The boy's eyes flashed for a second as he noted two winged forms landing on the outside balcony. As one, the four gargoyles charged him; there was no way he could dodge. A small smile broke out on the boy's face and he looked Broadway right in the eye as he came down on him. That strange boy winked at him, and vanished.

There was no explanation for it, yet they all had seen it. He had been standing between them one instant, and the next, he was gone. Unable to stop themselves, all four crashed into a big pile in the center of the floor. It was then that the door opened, and their two leaders walked in.

"Well," Hudson said with a laugh, "I didn't think ye lads would take me so seriously, wrestling with Bronx."

The three untangled themselves from the mess they had put themselves in and shared a confused look.

"Yeah," Brooklyn replied, rubbing the back of his neck, "We just thought he could use the exercise."

* * *

Sorry about the short chapter, the first one is normally like that. They will get longer.


	2. Chapter 2: A Little Detective Work

Chapter Two: A Little Detective Work

"Well, I appreciate it, lads," Hudson remarked. The three younger gargoyles stood below him, trading glances between them.

"Shouldn't we tell them?" Lexington whispered as Goliath and Elisa walked in.

"You think they'd believe us?" Brooklyn asked in return, "I don't even believe it." Lex nodded and started for the door. The sun would be coming up in a few moments and they had to get to 'bed.'

"I can't believe that Xanatos was 'on vacation.' Vacation where? His secrete lab getting ready to send robots after us most likely," Elisa said, hands on her hips.

"Agreed," Goliath said with a nod. "Tomorrow night we will continue our search, but for now we must rest. Get some sleep Elisa." The human waved goodbye as she walked toward the door to the police station below. As the sky brightened, the clan exited to the rooftops, taking their daily posts.

"We've got our own detective work to do tomorrow night as well," Brooklyn said once Goliath and Hudson were out of earshot. Broadway smiled as he took his perch. It would be just like his favorite movies. Well, not exactly, but close enough. The sun broke the horizon, and those fearsome creatures of the night turned to solid stone.

* * *

The sun sank low in the sky, and the city itself began to light up in the sun's absence. Among the hundreds of lights, were six pairs of eyes that shone from the top of the police clock tower. Unearthly roars could be heard by those close by, but they ignored them as they did every evening.

"Welcome back to the world of the living," Elisa said as they shed the last of their stone skin. "Ready to go?" Goliath nodded and scooped her up into his huge arms.

"You three-." Goliath started.

"Stay here and protect the clock tower," Brooklyn, Broadway, and Lexington finished for him.

"Right. Are you coming, Hudson?"

"Aye, might as well. I could use the exercise," Hudson replied, spreading his wings. The two were off, fading quickly into the bright city.

"That's right, Bronx," Lex said, pointing to the beast, "Stay here and protect the clock tower." Bronx issued a low growl, and sat down heavily on the stone. The trio spread their wings and leaped from the balcony.

"Any ideas?" Brooklyn asked as they began to head south. Yes, where to begin, Broadway thought, a good detective's first question.

"He has to be some kind of a magician," Lexington offered, "The way he vanished like that."

"Are you suggesting that we fly to Vegas and see his stage show?" Brooklyn asked with a tinge of sarcasm.

"You're just angry 'cause we got beat last night," Broadway said with a smile.

"It must have been his stinking magic," Brooklyn growled, "He would had have had no chance otherwise. Broadway, you were the first to notice him, did you see anything?"

Broadway stroked his chin, trying to remember everything. His own movement triggered something, so he repeated it again, then again. Finally, he remembered. It was the same movement that the intruder had made when his sleeve had slipped. "He was wearing a whole bunch of watches," Broadway said, grabbing his wrist. "And he said that he wanted to see how our clock worked."

"Well, Lex, you're the one that spent all of that time with the maps. Take us to the nearest clock shop," Brooklyn ordered. Lexington nodded, and made a sharp turn to the right. They glided over the city for another few minutes before Lexington brought them down on a rooftop.

"Magic Mike's Clockwork Shop," Lex announced after they landed. "It fits."

"If this kid's here, I'm going to kick his butt just for being so cliché," Brooklyn muttered angrily. He jumped off the side of the building and into the narrow alley beside the shop. Keeping low, he peered into the shops windows. Dozens of clocks were on display in the window, providing ample cover for his spying. There was someone behind the desk, helping a couple buying a large, elegantly carved, mantle clock. The clerk's age was about right, but it wasn't the intruder. Still keeping low, Brooklyn went deeper into the alley and spied through the smaller windows that looked into the back of the shop. Only an old guy, sitting over a magnifying glass.

Digging his fingers into the bricks, he climbed back up to the roof. "Nope," he said with a shake of his head, "On to the next one."

"Maybe we should split up, cover more ground," Broadway suggested.

"Hold that thought, 'cause we got company!" Lexington announced. He pointed up into the sky, where the mechanical fires of jetpacks lit up the metal wings of four members of the steel clan. "I wonder if Hudson and Goliath are having the same luck." Three pairs of wings spread wide as they leaped into the air. They closed the gap quickly, and the battle began. Laser cannons popped out of the robots' wrists, firing beams of red light. Those of flesh and blood went into spinning evasive maneuvers that they had learned worked against their enemies' fire. That was their advantage over these mindless machines, their ability to think and learn.

With a swift extension of his wings, Broadway pulled out of his diving spin and soared up to the robots. Grabbing onto one's metallic wing, he simply stopped gliding and allowed his great weight to pull the machine off balance. Together, they plummeted to the rooftops below. At the last moment, he spread his wings wide and let go, catching the wind of the robot's ensuing explosion to send him soaring. Up he went to rejoin his brethren. Lexington and Brooklyn moved together, gaining altitude over their adversaries. Then they dove, coming down together on the same opponent. Each grabbed a wing, and dragged it down. Lacking Broadway's weight, they let go after only a second, sending the steel gargoyle spinning end over end. It corrected itself, but not nearly fast enough to stop Broadway's bulk from slamming it down to the stones.

"This isn't too hard," Broadway said as he rejoined his brothers again.

"Yeah, these must be some older models," Lexington agreed. He quickly ate his words, as he caught a laser full in the chest. With a cry of pain, he fell, plummeting to the street below. The faster of the two remaining, Brooklyn dived after him, streamlining his slender body to catch up. He nimbly caught his unconscious comrade, and deposited him on the clock shop's rooftop. Eyes burning with white fire, Brooklyn flew back up to the battle, dodging lasers all the while.

"It was that green one," Broadway said, pointing to one of the two robots, his eyes lit up as well. Unlike its ally, the other remaining robot was painted a dark shade of green. Much like Xanatos' red robot armor, the two suspected that this one was either a newer model, or was being controlled by a human. "So, take out the leader?" Broadway asked.

"Take out the leader," Brooklyn confirmed. They both sped forward, splitting to flank the robots. As far as they could tell, it worked, and both machines divided their attention between the two gargoyles. The two flew circles around their metal counterparts, driving them closer together. Then, as one, they flew in, corkscrewing to avoid the laser fire. The green one quickly boosted its propulsion, jettisoning high into the air. Neither as fast, nor as smart, the other robot was helpless as the two slammed into it from both sides. Metal buckled and crunched between them and the flattened android fell from the sky. Now only the green one remained, high above them.

So up they flew, spinning around each other to avoid the robot's exact aim. But it continued to fire, sacrificing fine aim for speed, and raining down destruction from on high. They continued to dodge, but the bolts were too many, and several passed through their defenses. Brooklyn caught two to his wing, rendering it completely numb. Down he fell, slowing his fall with his remaining wing. With what little control he could maintain, he was able to direct himself onto the roof of the clock shop. "I'm not done," he growled between clenched fangs. Then he noticed the smoking pile of parts on the rooftop beside him.

Broadway had taken several hits as well, but his superior endurance kept him in the air. For how much longer, though, he couldn't say. Now he was the only target in this thing's sights, and he doubted his ability to defeat it by himself. But he wasn't alone, and his huge ears caught the sound of his aid. Whistling through the air came the spear tipped hand of one of the downed robots. Hurled by Brooklyn far below, it sailed like a missile, faster and harder than any human could ever hope to throw. Upon hearing the flying hand, Broadway let out a deafening roar and flew right at the machine, hoping to distract it from the approaching projectile. The ruse worked, and as he sailed around the robot, the hand punched right through its wings, clipping the jetpack's fuel line.

As gasoline sprayed from the robot's back, it slowly descended to the same rooftop that Brooklyn had launched the hand from. His wing limp behind him, Brooklyn charged forward with a roar, his claws swiping. Still concerned with Broadway bearing down on it from above, the steel gargoyle didn't even notice Brooklyn until he took the laser cannon clean off of its wrist. With its primary weapon completely destroyed, the robot was forced to resort to the same means as the true gargoyles. Turning around, it backhanded Brooklyn right across the beak, sending him sprawling.

Another ear splitting roar shook the sky as Broadway landed behind the robot and grabbed it in a crushing hug. Through its metal wings bent and twisted, the machine's main body resisted the tremendous pressure. Electricity suddenly arced from the robot's body, forcing Broadway to let go. He stumbled back and recovered just in time to take a metal fist to the face. Another came in, and another, each with the force of a jackhammer. The fourth punch put him flat on his back as darkness began creeping in from the edges of his vision. As his sight blurred and drifted, he saw the robot kneel over him, raising its hand with those sharp fingers fully extended. This would be the final blow, and Broadway knew what those fingers were capable of.

"Hey, Tin Man!" came a shout from somewhere outside of his fading vision. The green one's head turned, its red-eyed stare scanning to find the source of the call. It stood up as it located its new target, a fatal mistake. As soon as it took its feet, a bolt of lighting pierced through its metal torso, melting a hole right through. The empty husk collapsed right beside Broadway, who was now barely holding on to consciousness. Even as the last shards of light left his eyes, he caught a glimpse of his savior, and its was exactly who he expected.

It was the boy that had intruded into their home who now stood over him. His hands were still stuffed into his pockets, just like the last time. "Didn't think I'd be seeing you again so soon," the boy said, "And especially not like this." Broadway could no longer see, but he could still hear, though everything sounded distant. "It's okay," the boy said as Broadway finally slipped into the darkness, "You're in good hands."


	3. Chapter 3: Across the Rooftops

Chapter Three: Across the Rooftops Chapter Three: Across the Rooftops

He stood behind the glass counter as the sun filtered through the clouds. It had looked like it was going to rain all day, very depressing. But that didn't stop the New York street life, nothing could. Customers had been going in and out all day, preventing him from getting anything done. Normally people didn't really browse around in a clock shot, but it was just something about an ugly day that sent people out shopping to places they would never really go. It was great for business, people were buying things left and right, but it was preventing him from going in the back and doing what he really wanted to. There were still nine watches back there that needed fixed, much more exciting than waiting on customers all day.

The door's bell chimed, pulling him from his daydreaming. "Ah, Mr. Chen," the boy greeted the newcomer, "Here to pick up your Swiss watch?"

"Yes I am, Nicholas," Mr. Chen answered, "Assuming that it's finished."

"Of course it's done," Nicholas replied with a smile, "I finished it last night. Forty-eight hours means forty-eight hours, Mr. Chen, it's a guarantee." He turned and walked through the door behind the counter, entering the back room that he had been denied all day. Immediately he went to the rack on one of the tables and checked all of the tags until he found Mr. Chen's. Watch in hand, he started for the door again, but hesitated. Curiosity had always been one of his greatest weaknesses. Nicholas pulled back his left hand sleeve, revealing five watches of all different models. Through each one read a different time, it was the front one that he had set to this time zone. Seven forty eight. His smile widened as he looked to the door that led even deeper into the building, hiding his guests. Just twelve more minutes and he would close the shop and wait for sunset.

"Here it is, sir," Nicholas said as he walked back into the store front, "Band adjustment, a new battery, and a gear replacement. That comes to 24.60." The man paid him and left. Just five more minutes, he couldn't wait. Nicholas checked his watches again, all ten of them. He lifted the hinged section of the counter and moved to close the store. Just as he reached the door, someone pushed through it. "Sorry, shop's closing."

"That's too bad," the man said, pulling a gun from his jacket, "'Cause I'd really like to do some business."

"Give you all the money in the register, right?" Nicholas said with a roll of the eyes. Despite the gun pointed at him, Nicholas just stuck his hands in his pockets and walked back to the counter. The register chinked open and Nicholas took a look at the money inside. Not counting the checks and credit cards, he had made about five hundred dollars in cash. It wasn't that much, not enough to make a fuss over, but he didn't feel like being bullied this evening. "Tell you what, how 'bout you come back tomorrow, and we'll settle this then, huh?"

"You stupid, boy? That's not how you negotiate with a robber. Just give me the money," the man said, raising the gun higher.

"Yeah, that's not going to work for me."

"Boy, you are on my last nerve. Do you want to die?" the thief growled, walking up and placing the gun right in his face. Even staring down the barrel of the gun, he didn't even flinch. He noted the way that the man held the weapon tilted to the side, like a gangster. That really got on his nerves. Just as the tension reached its snapping point, there came a great cacophony from the back room. There was the sound of things breaking and shattering, followed by unearthly roars. "What the hell is that?" the thief asked, his gun hand beginning to shake.

"Is it sunset already?" Nicholas asked, a smile splitting his face. There was more racket from the back, the sound getting closer and closer. The robber looked around his hostage fearfully, watching the door. It suddenly burst open, a huge monster standing in the doorway; its eyes alight with white fire. The robber let out a scream, quite girly for someone of his size, and bolted for the door. In his haste, the thief had dropped his gun, leaving it on the counter.

With that annoyance gone, Nicholas turned around to face his guests. The one in the doorway was Broadway, his bulk hiding the other two from view. His glowing eyes scanned the room, finally settling on Nicholas. Slowly, deliberately, Broadway moved out of the way and let his rookery brothers through. Lexington leaped over the counter and crouched in the middle of the store's floor. Brooklyn came through the doorway, and unlike the others, the glow in his eyes didn't fade. Broadway reached over and grabbed the gun off of the counter, crushing it between his massive hands.

"So," Nicholas said after a moment of thick tension, "How bad did you mess up my room?"

"Not too bad," Broadway said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Enough of this crap," Brooklyn growled, slamming his fist on the counter, "Why did you break into our home?"

"I already told you, I just wanted to see your giant clock," he said.

"And I say you're lying," Brooklyn hissed, "There are how many clock towers on this island and you choose the one above a police station that just happens to be our home. I'm not sure I believe that's a coincidence."

"Fine, I admit that I had some suspicions about finding something other than a clock up there," Nicholas said with a shrug.

"Something other than the-What are we to you, just something to amuse yourself with? You're no better than Xanatos," Brooklyn growled, his eyes seeming to glow even more fiercely.

"Brooklyn, calm down," Broadway said, grabbing his by the shoulder, "This boy saved our lives last night." Though he did not respond, Brooklyn's gaze did not relent.

"You seem really frustrated," Nicholas said, "I often find that a good run takes care of that, or in your case, a good fly." He suddenly vanished, reappearing across the room, next to the door. There was no sound, no real visual effect, he had simply disappeared from one spot and popped up somewhere else. Nicholas locked the door and flipped his sign to closed. Lexington turned quickly, suspecting him of trying to escape onto the street. But he vanished again, reappearing back behind the counter. "I'll see you guys on the rooftop," he said, vanishing again. The three just stood there, trapped my shock.

"The stairs are over here," came Nicholas' call from the back room. Brooklyn bounded after the voice, Broadway and Lexington close behind. They burst through the door and into the night air. Nicholas stood on the far end of the roof, his hands still in his pockets. A smile broke out across his face as they approached. "Race ya." He turned and ran, disappearing right at the edge of the roof. It took them a second to discover where he had gone, but they quickly found him on the roof across the street, two stories higher than their current position. He was forcing them to take wing. So take wing they did, they chased him across the street, riding the air currents to soar upward.

The boy ran across the rooftop, quickly closing on its edge. Just as before, he vanished right at the edge of the roof, and rematerialized on the edge of the next roof, never breaking stride. In the skies above, three gargoyles followed him, never letting him out of their sights. "Did this kid really save us last night?" Brooklyn asked, the light fading from his eyes. Broadway nodded, and quickly recounted the story. The entire time he watched, noting how the boy looked up at them every time he teleported, just to make sure that they were still following.

"We have to be at least half a mile away from where the battle was," Lexington said as he scanned their surroundings. "How did he know where we were?"

"Let's ask him," Broadway suggested, dropping into a dive. The other two followed, speeding up in order to catch up with the running boy. "We want to talk," Broadway called out once they were within earshot. Instead of answering, Nicholas simply stopped abruptly. The move caught the three of them off guard, and they over flew him, having to circle back to land on the roof. "Lexington wants to know how you found us last night," Broadway asked him.

"It wasn't that hard, what with the explosions and laser beams and so on. I'm lucky that I got you guys out before the police got there," Nicholas replied. "I'll be honest, I didn't have the slightest idea about how to treat you guys once I got you back. Lexington is it? I had to keep an eye on you until morning, 'cause you got hit pretty bad. And you, Brooklyn, I was afraid that you were going to wake up any minute. Just wondering, what would you have done?"

"Last night, I'd have turned you inside out," Brooklyn said, pointing a talon at him. The boy smiled, but wisely held his tongue. He'd just gotten him calmed down; there was no need to get him riled up again. "What's your name, kid?"

That smile got a little deeper, and he bowed low with his arms spread out, "The name is Nicholas, sorcerer by trade, clock maker by choice. You can call me Nick." When he came out of his bow, the expression he found was not quite what he had expected. Brooklyn's eyes were alight once more, and his fingers dug into the roof as if he were holding himself back. Lexington was simply nodding, since his words were simply confirmation of his own thoughts. Broadway surprised him the most, since his expression hadn't changed at all. "Is there something wrong?"

"We haven't had very good experiences with magic," Broadway said, holding Brooklyn back with a glance.

"You're a Magus!" Brooklyn shouted.

"No, I am not a Magus, I'm a sorcerer, there is a difference."

"You're still a dirty magic user!"

"Do we need to run a little more?" Nicholas asked, his hands coming out of his pockets.

"No, we don't. We owe you one," Broadway said, more to Brooklyn than to Nicholas, grabbing him by the shoulder.

"So are there any more of you?" Nicholas asked after the situation calmed down. His question sparked an exchange of glances between the three gargoyles.

"Goliath and Hudson are probably out looking for us," Lexington said.

"Go see if you can find them, I'm sure they'll want to meet our new friend," Brooklyn said, his sarcasm thick. Lexington nodded and took off, disappearing around a building.

"So, who's hungry?" Nick asked, unknowing of Broadway's legendary appetite.

* * *

"Goliath!" Lexington called out as he glided through the night. He had spotted the two clan leaders near the site of last night's battle.

"Lad, where have you been? And where are the others?" Hudson called back as Lexington closed in.

"Follow me, I'll explain on the way." Lexington said, making a wide u-turn.

"Hudson," Goliath ordered, "Go get Elisa back at the clock tower and meet us-"

"Right over the Germanic Bakery," Lexington called down. Hudson nodded and took off in the opposite direction as Goliath took wing after Lexington.

* * *

"So you're a sorcerer," Broadway said after several minutes had ticked by, "Can you show us some magic?"

"Other than your vanishing trick," Brooklyn said, now sitting on the roof with is arms crossed.

"You don't like my teleportation?" Nicholas asked with a laugh, "How about some of that lightning from last night? Oh, better yet, let's play with fire!" He lifted his hands, which burst into flames. Brooklyn jumped up from his seat at the sudden display of magic. "Watch this," Nick said over the crackle of his flames. He reached out with one flaming hand and started drawing in the air. Wherever his hand went, fire hung in the air, a strange paint for his masterpiece. Like a finger painter with a giant canvas, his hands stretched out as he leaned this way and that, reaching to the very edges of his picture. "It's a dragon," he stated, walking around to see it from their point of view.

"Very creative," Brooklyn said sarcastically.

"Fine, then try this," Nicholas retorted. With a wave of his hand, the fire picture was swept away. Again he stretched and reached, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth as he drew. Before they could even guess what it was, they were interrupted by a deafening roar from somewhere high above. "Who's that?" Nicholas asked as Goliath dove down at him. Lexington was diving right behind him, and both of the gargoyles' eyes were burning. Looking down at his flaming hands, Nicholas realized just what it looked like he was doing.

Diving to the left just in time, Nicholas missed Goliath as he flew right though his fire picture, scattering it everywhere. "I know what this looks like," Nick started, but another ear splitting roar drowned him out. "He's just not going to stop is he?" Nick asked as Goliath turned around for another go. Nearly caught off guard, he jumped over Lexington as the gargoyle tried to take out his feet from behind. Acting on impulse, Nicholas called out a few arcane words, and with a flick of his wrist, sent spider webs from his fingertips. The sticky strands fell all over Lexington, binding him to the rooftop. "Oops," Nick muttered, realizing just how bad of a move he'd made.

Goliath completed his turn and came back around to make another charge. "Goliath, stop!" he heard Broadway call out as he flew across the rooftop. The call made him hesitate for a second, but then he saw Lexington, glued to the floor with magical webs. It could be that Broadway was under some kind of spell as well. Both he and Brooklyn had been left alone with this mage. So on he charged, quickly closing on the boy. But then the mage vanished, reappearing next to Broadway over to his left. Brooklyn had gone over to help Lex. Or to hurt him? Goliath really hated magic; it made even the most simple of things much too complex. Landing on the roof, he charged on all fours. Broadway jumped out of the way as he came in, leaving the mage unprotected.

Releasing a third roar, Goliath leaped at him, talons extended. A single arcane call issued from the mage's lips, and he raised his hands as Goliath came in. The large gargoyle found himself unable to move, unable to react as the mage ducked beneath his lunge. He fell heavily to the roof, and realized what the spell had done. Goliath now found himself frozen solid by the Magus' spell. Great muscles flexed and ice cracked and shattered as he burst forth from his icy cocoon.

"Your spells are no match for me, Magus!" Goliath roared, preparing for another attack.

"What is with you people?" Nicholas shouted back in frustration, "I'm not a Magus! I'm a SORCERER! There's a difference!" Goliath ignored his shouts and ran at him again. "Why are you attacking me?"

"Why were you attacking my clan?" Goliath asked in return. He lashed out with his tail, but the mage nimbly leaped over it.

"I wasn't," Nick said, dodging Goliath's fist, "Really."

"You attacked Lexington," Goliath countered. He tried the tail again, higher, but the mage just jumped back.

"He attacked me first!"

"That's enough, Goliath!" came a female voice. Elisa ran up to him, putting a hand on his arm. "Broadway told us what happened, it's all just a misunderstanding."

"Yeah, see, this is all a big misunderst-" Nick started, moving around Goliath and backing off a bit. He suddenly backed into something solid, something that hadn't been there before. Nick spun around with all of his magically enhanced reflexes to face whatever he had just walked into. It was only Hudson.

"Watch where you're walking there, lad," Hudson remarked, brushing off his shirt. He looked up from his cleaning to find the boy staring at him, eyes wide. "Come on now, lad, you just fought Goliath, I can't be that scary." Nicholas stumbled back a step, his eyes now darting around. He was visibly shaking now, and a cold sweat was beginning to seep from his pores. There was no way out, all of the gargoyles had made a semi circle around him, pinning him against the edge of the roof. Even Lexington had freed himself to come in. No way out. He suddenly felt so trapped. His eyes settled back on Hudson, and he fell back another step. The old gargoyle reached out to him, surprised by the intense fear in the boy's eyes. With another stumbling step back, Nick waved the hand away. He couldn't think, his thoughts just raced through his head, and his vision was distorting with a claustrophobic effect. His breath was caught in his lungs, he couldn't breath. Nick could feel his hands trembling. That was it; he couldn't stand it any more.

Nicholas turned and bolted, and there was only one escape route left open. The street below. He didn't even think about it, he just jumped. Right off the side of the building, arms spread wide, he leaped as far out has he could to put as much distance between himself and those behind him as possible. Goliath raced to the edge, about to leap over when he saw something that made him stop. There was nothing. Nick was gone.

"That was weird," Lexington remarked.

"Aye, lad, that was very strange indeed," Hudson replied, scratching his white beard.

"We know where he lives," Broadway offered, "I bet he went back there."

"Maybe not tonight, Broadway," Elisa said. She looked over to Hudson. That boy had completely lost it once he had seen him. Hudson may be grizzled, and the only one armed, but he wasn't quite as scary as the physically imposing Goliath, with whom the boy had traded both shouts and punches without a problem. There was something deeper here. "But I'll be paying him a visit later on today."


	4. Chapter 4: Turmoil of the Storm

Chapter Four: Turmoil in the Storm Chapter Four: Turmoil of the Storm

"Is that it, Lexington?" Elisa asked, writing the last letters in her notepad. Lex nodded from his perch. "You know this city better than most people who live here, thanks for his address. I'll be talking to him right before sunset. If everything checks out, do you want me to bring him back here?"

"That sounds like a good idea," Goliath said with his usual slow nod. "Elisa, please be careful." The detective gave him a smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"Sleep tight," Elisa called out as the sun cracked the horizon. All around her, the sound of grinding rock signaled her friend's transformation to stone. While their exciting 'day' had just ended, hers was just about to begin. She walked around, checking them each in turn as she made her way to the door. Now it was simply a matter of getting back into the police station without getting caught. After climbing down the stares, she opened the door just a crack to peer through. When the coast was clear, she slipped out and made her way to the front door. Her mind, though, was on the night's events. As a trained detective, her eyes had noticed everything, and her mind had remembered it all. Now it was up to her to sort through it.

That boy had been going toe to toe with Goliath. Not many grown men could do that without wetting their pants, not to mention the other gargoyles. This Nicholas had actively sought them out, creatures that only a select few knew about. And the magic, how was that even possible? Everything that Goliath and Hudson had told her about magic said that only those who spent years studying the art could cast anything, and that most spells were so long and complicated that they had no real use in fast combat.

That clock thing was strange as well. As Hudson had carried her to the roof, they had seen the fight from the sky. While the two had been jumping around, Elisa had spotted his arms, as well as the many watches that adorned them. Plus, the address Lexington had given her was for a clock shop. She'd only once met one other person so obsessed with clocks, and he'd been an obsessive-compulsive hobo. Everything was out of the norm. But it was what had happened right at the end that really stuck out in her mind. He had only bumped into Hudson, and that had scared him enough to jump off of a building.

Elisa had sunk so deep into thought that she had neglected to watch where she was walking. There was a loud clatter as she collided with somebody, spilling the man's books all over the floor. "Sorry," Elisa said, bending over to scoop up the dropped items. She looked to see whom it was that she had walked into, finding the face of the station's psychiatrist looking back at her. "Dr. Turner," she exclaimed, "You're just the person I wanted to talk to."

"What about?" the doctor asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I haven't seen you in some time, Maza. If you want to schedule an appointment, I'd be happy to listen."

"Oh, no, doctor, it's just a quick question, about a case," Elisa lied. Lying to her fellow officers had become quite commonplace since she'd met Goliath and the others. She didn't like it, but telling the truth just wasn't an option at this point. "My partner and I were talking to someone, a victim of a mugging. He was doing fine, better than most, in fact. But then a patrolman came up, one of the older guys, and the person became scared, starting sweating and shaking. I don't know what it was." It was a pretty good recreation of what happened, minus gargoyles and rooftop battles.

"Did this person try to run at any point, or look around for an escape route?" Dr. Turner asked becoming immersed in the problem, just as he always did when presented with a problem in his field.

"Yeah, he started backing up as soon as the officer walked in, and he started looking around," Elisa said with a nod. That was close enough; it wasn't as if she could say that he had jumped off a roof.

"Well, I'm assuming, since you've come to me, that you have already considered that he might have a record and had been arrested by that officer before," Dr. Turner said, his chin in his hand. Elisa nodded, and then shook her head, saying that she'd considered it, but that wasn't the case. "The best I can do, detective, without actually speaking to him, is to say that it might be a case of repressed memories. When the mind experiences something too traumatic, it will shut the memory away. Now, if anything threatens to dredge that memory back up, the mind will often react violently, doing everything it can to keep from remembering. It's possible that this officer was somehow involved with whatever incident this individual's mind has blocked."

"I talked to the officer afterwards, he'd never met this person before," Elisa said with a shake of the head. As she had suspected, Hudson had never even seen the boy before.

"Someone who had looked like him then. I'm sorry, but it's the best I can do with such limited information," the doctor said.

"No, that's great, thanks, Dr. Turner," Elisa said, hurrying out of the station. Now it was time for her bed, and the sleep that she'd been lacking for quite some time. It had been about twenty-four hours since she'd been under the covers, and her body was screaming at her. She'd sleep on it and go talk to the mystery boy when she woke up. The biggest question on her mind right now, what was she getting to eat?

* * *

"I thought that I'd be seeing you soon," Nicholas said as the bells on his door jingled.

"Oh you did, did you?" Elisa said with a smile. The sun was low in the sky, maybe thirty minutes before it set. Plenty of time to pick this kid clean and get back to the clock tower. "I just have a few questions."

"And as you can see, I have plenty of time," he waved his hand around the empty shop, "Miss.…?"

"Detective Maza," Elisa corrected him. "Now, why did you seek out my friends?"

"Put yourself in my shoes for a second, Detective Maza. I'm a sorcerer, always a little set off from the rest of the world because of what I can do. All of a sudden, there come reports of gargoyles in my hometown. Would you not try and meet up with them?" he asked in return.

"If you're looking for friends, breaking into their house is not a great way to start," Elisa remarked with a cocked eyebrow.

"Friends? Please, Detective, gargoyles are not the type of creatures that you can make friends with. They are temperamental, short tempered, violent, brutish-"

"Kind, compassionate, gentle, and protective," Elisa finished for him, a tangible bite to her words.

"And what exactly is your relationship them?" Nick asked, his turn to arch an eyebrow.

"I am living proof that you can be friends with gargoyles," Elisa replied, "Besides, I'm the one asking questions here. Now tell me, what happened with you and Hudson?"

"Who?"

"The older one with the beard," she explained. As soon as he realized what her question was, his blue eyes flashed and that smile left his face. Elisa couldn't help but allow a small smile of her own. Some deny it, but every cop enjoys hitting a nerve every once in a while.

"Yeah, him. I'll admit it, he scares me. My breath catches every time I think about it," he muttered, no longer looking at her. With the initial thrill over, Elisa realized the extent to which this had hit him.

"Why?" she asked, toning it down a little. His eyes darted back and forth, checking that the shop was indeed empty. Then, he motioned for her to come closer with a twitch of his finger. When she was leaning over the counter, he leaned over next to her.

"I don't know why, and that scares me almost as much as he does," Nicholas whispered next to her ear. The bells on the door suddenly jingled, "If you would excuse me," Nick said, standing up quickly. Elisa stood to the side as Nicholas dealt with the woman who had walked in. As she watched him, she thought about what he'd said. It now seemed that the doctor was right, this could very well be him running away from something in his past.

"I'm sorry, Nick," the woman said, "But I'm going to have to ask if I can speak to your father." Elisa nodded, that was going to be her next question. This boy's parents would have to be something special to raise someone like him. Nick just nodded and went into the back room. A second later, his father came out to deal with the customer. In his early to mid forties, Nick's father was suffering from male pattern baldness. What little hair he did have had gone gray. He was about half a foot taller than his son, and over a hundred pounds heavier.

"How may I help you, Mrs.…?" the father asked, his voice considerably deeper than his son's.

"Mrs. Solon. I understand that you let your son fix my watch, but now I can't set the time," the woman explained, producing a small watch from her purse. Taking it from her, the father looked the watch over and played with the dial.

"It's just jammed, Mrs. Solon," he said, "I'll fix it for free. You can pick it up tomorrow." Without a single word of thanks, the woman just nodded and left. "Jammed, probably when she put it in her purse. She could have at least said 'thank you,' don't you agree, Detective Maza?"

"Yes, I do," Elisa said with a smile, "Nick." The father smiled, and leaned on the counter. As if it were made of smoke, the man's outline dissolved, revealing Nicholas beneath the veil. Nick let out a long whistle of surprise. "Your speach pattern didn't change at all. So where is your father?"

"A graveyard," Nick said, averting his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Elisa apologized. Nicholas let out a bitter laugh.

"I never get why people say that, it's not like you were the one who killed him," Nick sneered, crossing his arms, "I am." His eyes flashed up to see her reaction. She just stood there, waiting for an explanation. "It was my first spell. We had gone to the movies, some action flick. Ha, you'd think I'd remember what it was, but I don't. On our way home, these-these thugs came out of nowhere, demanding payment to pass through their 'territory,'" Nick spat, "My dad gave them his wallet, and his watch, but they said that it wasn't enough. I got scared. They had chains, pipes, and knives. My dad took my hand, and they attacked. That's when it happened. My first spell.

"Teleportation, my first and best. But it was wild, uncontrolled. I teleported everyone in the area to all different places. They found one of the thugs in Scotland, and another in Austria. Most of them were never found. I don't remember what happened after that, but I woke up in the alley after dark, all by myself. Just me, and my dad's corpse. His stomach had been ripped open, most likely because of my spell. I was eight. Not three months later, a fellow mage noticed my growing powers, and took me in." Nick watched her the entire time, trying to see how she took the information. He had never worked with cops before, but he imagined that the cold, impassive stare that she was giving him was pretty standard with the law enforcers. Why had he told her? It would have gotten out eventually, and at least he was able to maintain some form of control over the situation by telling her on his terms. "That was the last time I felt fear, until last night at least."

Elisa nodded, though she didn't let her confusion show. Her repressed memory theory had gone right out the window. If he could remember something as messed up as that, then there couldn't be anything worse that he'd be hiding from himself. Back to square one. "So tell me about this mage who took you in," Elisa asked.

"What is this, a psyche evaluation?" Nick said, falling back into his normal habits. "He was fine, taught me a lot. When I turned seventeen, he let me go. Not much to – Was it supposed to rain today?" Nicholas asked, looking through the window behind her. Heavy drops were falling, hitting the windows with a loud thunk.

"Not today," Elisa said, noting his concern. Either she was getting close to hitting something, or he was just getting board. She wouldn't put him above the latter.

"It was supposed to yesterday," he mumbled, "But didn't. The clock tower is in that general direction, right?" He pointed out the window, a little to the right. Elisa nodded, trying to figure out what he was getting at. Nick tilted his head back and closed his eyes, letting out a soft sigh. Suddenly, his eyes snapped back open, flashing with realization. "This storm reeks of magic," he said, vanishing and reappearing by the door. "Storm magic is powerful, even more so when directed." He locked the door and flipped his sign to closed.

"Whoever's doing this must have taken the energy from last night's storm and released it now. Its center is positioned right over the clock tower." Nick pointed in the clock tower's direction again, and Elisa could now see that all of the clouds were indeed converging on that point. "I'll give you one guess as to what its objective is." Vanishing again, Nick popped up right next to her. "Close your eyes and hold your breath." Nick ordered. As soon as she complied, she felt an extremely rough tug and the briefest instance of floating freely in an area of nothing. Then Elisa felt her feet hit solid ground again and opened her eyes, not surprised to find herself in the clock tower. Through the windows, she could see the gargoyles, frozen in their daily slumber, completely helpless.

"You're going to get them, and bring them inside?" Elisa asked. Whether stone or no, she could never hope to lift even Lexington long enough to carry him inside. But with his teleportation magic, Nick could get all of them inside in just about a minute. Judging by the clouds, they only had that long before the storm started spewing lightning.

"That's the plan," he said with a wink, disappearing once more. She found him a split second later next to Bronx. Nick placed his hand on the beast's back, and they both vanished. Elisa heard as soft click as Bronx touched stone. By the time she looked over all she found was the beast's statue standing alone in the middle of the room. Then Lexington joined him, followed quickly by Brooklyn. The sorcerer's teleporting was so fast that she could only catch a glimpse of him before he was off again. Half the clan in about thirty seconds, it was good time, but he would have to hurry up. Above them, the clouds were beginning to light up with internal lightning; it would only be a few more seconds before that lightening could touch the ground.

Nicholas appeared next to Broadway, placing his hand on the large statue's wing. Just before he 'ported, all of the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. The electrical charge had been built, and the storm was ready to unleash its power. Nick gritted his teeth as he teleported again, this time to Goliath's side. His 'ports were getting slower, he could feel it. It wasn't just because of extra weight he was taking with him, though that was adding to his fatigue. He still wasn't recovered from last night. Fear was something that simply didn't know how to deal with, and as such, he hadn't slept at all. After what felt like an eternity, he got Goliath inside, and got ready to retrieve his last statue. What he didn't try and think about was whose statue it was.

As soon as he materialized outside, a tingle ran up his spine. Time seemed to slow down for him as he activated his reflex enhancement spell by memory. He saw as the yellow bolt of lightning formed from the clouds and began its descent from the sky. Its target was clear, the only remaining gargoyle. Blue sparks climbed up Nick's arm as he mentally cast his own lightning spell. The plan was to intercept the storm's bolt with one of his own, knocking it off course. Down the storm's wrath came, faster than a bullet. Nick took careful aim, and released his spell, sending a blue bolt searing across the sky. The timing was nearly perfect, and both bolts collided, throwing both of their paths askew. His lighting bounced off into the night, while the yellow energy missed its target by only a few feet.

The ground at Nick's feet exploded as the lighting struck, hurling him into the air. He was thrown over the edge of the tower, up and over Hudson's sleeping statue. Fingers latched onto stone as he grabbed the edge with his right hand. Hudson's outline loomed directly above him as the sky lit up with harmless lightning. Shadows played across the statue's face, frozen mid roar. Nicholas felt his breath catch, and strength began to seep from his limbs as fear wormed its way into his heart. Gritting his teeth against the intrusion, he reached up with his left hand. His muscles screamed at him as he called upon his body's reserves, adrenaline flooding through his veins.

Out of the corner of his eye, Nick notices the sky light up again, and his magical senses told him that that an unseen hand directed this bolt. A thought raced through his mind. Just go, it said, just teleport away and leave this creature that causes you so much pain. It would be so easy to just listen to that thought, just allow the helpless gargoyle to be destroyed, his problem solved. No, he shook off the thought as he continued to reach up. His hand grabbed onto Hudson's sword, cold steel biting into his palm. Every hair on his body stood on end as the lightning came in. It struck nothing but the stones as they both vanished.

The two reappeared inside, Nick face down on the floor. He was soaked to the bone from just a few seconds outside, and a chill had settled in. Bracing his palms against the stone, he pushed him self up, ignoring the pain in his left hand. Blood dripped off the tip of Hudson's motionless sword. "I think I deserve a medal," Nick groaned as he stood up.

"You certainly deserve our thanks," Elisa said, getting him the first aid kit. The wound looked worse than it was, thanks to water making it appear that his blood was everywhere. It was a good thing that he had worn a red shirt today.


	5. Chapter 5: Warrior’s Respect

Chapter Five: Warrior's Respect

Nick held out his hand as Elisa wrapped gauze around the cut on his palm. The entire time, he watched the statues, one in particular.

"They're not going to wake up for another ten minutes," Elisa said as she tied off the bandage. Nicholas nodded and checked one of his watches. "Done."

"Thanks," Nick nodded, flexing the hand. He bent over and looked Hudson's statue right in the face.

"What are you doing?" Elisa asked as she packed up the first aid kit.

"Stop me if you've heard this before, Detective Maza. People often say that fear is born of ignorance. So learning a little about him should make the fear go away, right?" Nick answered. He slowly began to circle the statue, examining every detail. But there wasn't much to learn from an inanimate object, so he quickly gave it up.

"Are you ready for another round of questioning in five minutes?" Elisa asked, looking at her own watch. She only had one.

"I guess," Nick said, stretching as if preparing for a round of boxing. "I only ask that you don't repeat that little story about my dad. If they ask, I'll tell them the truth, just not the story." Elisa nodded. It was good that he trusted her with something; it meant that he was willing to cooperate with her. Thunder cracked outside the window, and the pounding of the rain sounded just as loud. The magic storm was still raging outside, despite the fact that all of its targets had been put out of reach.

Nicholas turned and watched the sky light up through the clock's glass face. "You said that the storm was magical," Elisa said, "Any idea who cast it?"

"When I get some time, I'll cast an identification spell. That'll give me the magical signature, and I can trace it back to the caster. If I don't get to it tonight, I can do it tomorrow. The energy from this storm is going to linger for quite a while," he explained. Again, a bolt of lightning broke the sky, followed immediately by a crack of thunder. No doubt about it, this was a powerful spell, cast by a powerful mage. Few could manage a feat like this, and that would make finding the caster all the more interesting. Elisa looked at her watch again, then glanced up at the gargoyles. Any second now. With the storm blackening the sky, it would be impossible to see the sunset, but she had started keeping track of its time, and had gotten it down the second.

A small smile bent her lips as the second hand ticked down. Nick had never seen them wake up before, he didn't know how loud it was, and right now, he wasn't paying any attention. This was going to be fun. Right about…now. Spider cracks appeared along the stone, the sound drowned out by the falling rain. Six pairs of white, burning eyes snapped open, and then came the moment she had been waiting for. With a massive roar, the entire clan burst from their stony shells. Nick jumped, turning around and backing up at the same time. He stumbled back in his shock, and fell into an overstuffed armchair. Little did he know whom it belonged to.

"Your sitting in me seat, lad," Hudson growled, sheathing his sword. All of the blood had washed off of it, too diluted by rainwater to stick. Nick leaped out of the chair, getting as far away from it as he could.

"Elisa, why are we not outside?" Goliath asked, his brow crinkled with confusion.

"Our friend here teleported you inside," Elisa explained, a broad smile on her face. It had been better than she had hoped for. She hadn't anticipated him falling into Hudson's chair, that had just been too good.

"Why?" Goliath asked the boy, who was still preoccupied with getting away from Hudson's chair. He looked over when he noticed Goliath speaking to him.

"The thunder storm was trying to kill you," he said, pointing strait up. Goliath gave him a hard stare. "I'm serious! The storm is being controlled by magic. Someone tried to use it to kill you while you slept," Nick said, instantly regretting his bluntness. He could see one pair of eyes still alight with white fire, and he didn't have to guess who's they were.

"I've got a theory," Brooklyn growled, stomping forward, "Of the one sorcerer we know, there aren't that many choices as to who cast it."

"It wasn't me," Nick said, putting a hand on his chest.

"Prove It!" Brooklyn roared.

"Brooklyn-" Goliath started, but he was cut short by his mentor's hand.

"No, lad," Hudson said, "These two need to work this out their way."

"Wha-I can't prove it," Nick replied, "Why would I cast a spell to destroy you, and then save you from my own spell?"

"Are you admitting it?" Brooklyn growled.

"Admitting-No! What's wrong with you? I've saved your stony butt twice now."

"From dangers you made!"

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"Why don't you just jump off of a building?!"

"That is it!" Nick shouted, "I've had enough of you! You wanna go?"

"What are you gonna do?" Brooklyn growled, "Shoot me with lightning, try and mind control me?"

"No," Nick said, unbuttoning his dress shirt, revealing a black t-shirt beneath. "No magic, I want to beat you fair and square."

"Fine by me," Brooklyn's eyes narrowed to fine slits. Nick threw his red shirt off the side. His many watches unbuckled themselves, and dropped to the floor. Everyone backed off, forming a wide ring around the two. Fists came up, and the two approached each other. Brooklyn's eyes had faded; anger was replaces with a desire to punch this kid in the face. For a moment, neither moved, both of them waiting for the other to make their move. But it was Brooklyn that took the first punch. Out he swung, a well-placed right hook. But Nick ducked and came back with his own fist. Deflecting the blow off of his forearm, Brooklyn placed his knuckles in Nick's stomach, lifting him off of his feet.

Nick stumbled back, trying to catch his wind. But Brooklyn didn't let him, rushing in with a punch that connected with his face. He tasted blood in his mouth as he staggered back from the blow. "This is too easy," Brooklyn jeered. Spitting out some of the blood, Nick raised his hands again, ready for another attack. The gargoyle came in with another right hook, but Nick was ready for it. He parried the blow and grabbed Brooklyn's wrist, keeping the arm outstretched. Four quick strikes to his open ribs and Brooklyn was forced a step back, clutching his side.

That attack had hurt the both of them. Even when they weren't asleep, gargoyles were infamous for their stone-like skin. Nick held his fist as it throbbed. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. Brooklyn winced as he took in a breath. It wasn't so much that the strikes had been hard, just that they had hit him in exactly the right spot. After such impressive words, neither was ready to back down.

Nick stepped forward, lashing out with a sidekick. Brooklyn caught the blow and tossed him into the wall. Standing up quickly, he regained his footing just in time to block Brooklyn's attack. Catching the punch between his wrists, Nick opened him up and planted a kick right in his chest. Using his wings to keep from getting pushed back too far, Brooklyn did a sweep with his tail, taking Nick's feet out from under him. While on the ground, Nick quickly performed the same move with his leg, putting Brooklyn on his back. Both of them regained their footing at the same time, and immediately attacked.

"Elisa," Goliath said as the two exchanged blows, "What have you learned?"

Elisa told him everything that had happened at the clock shop, minus a certain story.

"And about what happened last night, lass?" Hudson asked. It was clear what he was asking about.

"He admits that he's afraid of you, but he says he doesn't know why," Elisa answered.

"We'll just have to do something about that, won't we," Hudson muttered.

"Whenever these two stop their fighting," Elisa said, "What is the point of this?"

"It's what we used to do with the younger gargoyles back way back when. If two lads had a problem, they settled it like this, under the eyes of a leader. If it's settled in the ring, then the problem wouldn't interfere with their teamwork in battle," Hudson said, "It has been the way for years."

Brooklyn kicked out with a taloned foot, but just as he had done only a moment before, his kick was caught. Without the physical strength of a gargoyle, Nick couldn't hope to throw Brooklyn, so he just twisted. In order to keep his ankle from being broken, Brooklyn had to spin in the same direction as Nick twisted. Using his tail to balance, the gargoyle placed his hands against the ground and spun faster than Nick twisted, wrenching his foot from Nick's grasp. He quickly flipped back onto his feet, and hit Nick in the chin with a left hook. Nick recovered as quickly as he could, but it was taking longer than before. Spitting out more blood, Nick attacked, hitting Brooklyn across the beak with his third punch.

Brooklyn didn't even respond to that hit, he just knocked Nick flat on his back with a well-placed punch. "You're done, just give up," Brooklyn said, standing over him.

"Wish I could," Nick mumbled, wiping blood from his nose, "But that would look bad." He brought Brooklyn down by using one leg to take out his feet, and another to hit him in the back of the knees. By quickly shifting his weight, he slammed his foot into the gargoyle's chest, sending him onto his back as well. Nick stood up slowly, the whole room spinning. This was not good, Brooklyn was already up, and there seemed to be two of him. No there wasn't two of him; it was just that his vision was beginning to double.

Nick got his hands up in time to defend against Brooklyn's next attack, but not the one after that. The punch hit him right in the mouth, splitting his lip wide open. He stumbled back as the world spun around him. If he fell down now, there was little doubt that he wouldn't be getting back up. Another punch came in, right to the jaw. Stumbling back another few steps, Nick was about to go down, when he was caught by a set of strong hands. "Brooklyn's getting sloppy," Broadway whispered into Nick's ear, "He's leaving his left side open." Nick nodded, though it was unclear if he had truly heard it. Broadway let go, and Nick stumbled a step forward. Brooklyn was coming in, but Nick just ignored the advance. He closed his eyes and took a breath to steady himself. That was all he really needed.

Brooklyn came in with another right hook, and just as Broadway had said, his left side was wide open. Nick's foot came up, a crescent kick that pushed the attack to the side. As soon as his foot was back on the ground, his other one came up. The roundhouse slammed into Brooklyn's face, bloodying his nose. He carried the kick though, and brought his left foot up again as he spun around, his heel connecting in the same spot. Brooklyn stumbled back, wiping his face. The last time he had truly been hit that hard was by Macbeth. This boy was no Macbeth. It was time to end this, Brooklyn decided.

His eyes flared with white fire as he came in once more. His left fist connected solidly with the boy's face, putting him to the ground. "That's enough!" Hudson roared as Brooklyn picked Nick off the ground by the front of his shirt, his fist ready for another strike. Brooklyn dropped him back to the floor as the old gargoyle stepped between them.

"No," Nick said, standing up with noticeable trouble. "I can keep going." He raised his hands to fight again; they were the only things that didn't sway.

"I said that's enough, lad," Hudson said, holding Brooklyn back with one hand. He pushed the young gargoyle back and into a seat, motioning for Broadway to do the same. With a nod, Broadway grabbed Nicholas by the shoulders and pushed him into Hudson's chair. The boy immediately stood up, shaking his head.

"It's okay, Hudson said you could," Broadway said, pushing him back down. Hudson had said no such thing, but this kid was so far out of it, he would never know.

"Do you understand how that works, lad?" Hudson asked, standing next to Goliath. The clan's leader nodded. "Good, then you can do it next time. I'm too old for this." His eyes flashed as he noticed Brooklyn getting up and making his way over to where Nick sat in a daze. "Keep on your toes, lad," he muttered to Goliath, "This could be good or bad." Brooklyn walked up and stood over his opponent for a second before extending his hand. Nick took it, grabbing the wrist instead of the hand as he'd seen them do in Shakespeare's plays. It was luck that he had guessed that to be a gargoyle's handshake as well.

"Where'd you learn to fight like that?" Brooklyn asked.

"Master Chen's School of Get-Your-Butt-Kicked," Nick replied with a goofy smile, "No, seriously, I practice to Jet Li movies before I go to bed. It's kinda cliché, I know, but I really don't have the time for anything else. May not be the best way to learn, but it works against humans pretty well."

"You mind showing me sometime?" Brooklyn asked with a smile. Nick nodded, not letting his confusion show. "I'll hold you to it," the gargoyle said, going back to where Elisa had the first aid kit open.

"So, uh, what just happened? I could have sworn that he hated my guts five minutes ago," Nick said to Broadway. His words were still pretty slurred.

"It's called respect, lad," Hudson said, walking over to where he sat. "You put down your magic and fought on his terms. That took a lot of courage." The old gargoyle took a knee beside the chair. Despite his earlier reactions, Nick didn't seem affected by his presence. "But you want to know what really did it, lad? When he had you down, you didn't give up. You were beaten, but didn't stand down. We gargoyles respect that a great deal." Elisa showed up with the first aid kit. After they wiped all of the blood away, his wounds became obvious. Both his eyebrow and his lip had been split open, along with a nice shiner on his right eye, and that was only his face. Nick wouldn't be surprised if one of his ribs was broken. Finally, she checked his eyes. It didn't look like he had a concussion, though he was certainly acting like it.

"You've earned our trust, sorcerer," Goliath said, speaking for the clan as was the leader's duty.

"And all I had to do was get beat up," Nick snickered. His head was starting to hurt, and he couldn't open his right eye anymore. "Thank you, all of you. Now if you don't mind, I'm going home. I've got stuff there that will make me all pretty again. Oh yeah, don't go outside 'cause, you know, the storm wants to kill you." He stood up and staggered to the right before he was able to find his balance. He waved goodbye and vanished. Not a split second later, he reappeared in the exact same spot. "That's weird," he muttered. His face scrunched up with concentration, and he vanished again. This time, he reappeared a few feet away. "I think you knocked something loose."

"Don't try that again," Lexington said, "Your internal compass is off. Who knows where you could end up if you truly left."

"Magical failsafe," Nicholas said, seemingly just remembering. "I can't cast until my head's back on strait."

"You may stay here for the night," Goliath offered. "If we cannot go out until this storm has passed, then we have plenty of time to talk."

"I'd love to," Nick said with a nod. Hudson had already taken back his chair, so the sorcerer settled on the steps that led up to the door. The others began going about their business, even Elisa had to leave to begin her work. "So what do you want to talk about?"

Goliath stood beside him, "Everything."


	6. Chapter 6: Bridging the Gap

Chapter Six: Bridging the Gap 

"And that's about it," Nick said, sitting back against the steps. His head had cleared after about twenty minutes of talking. It had been touchy at the beginning, his words slurring all together and repeating himself without realizing it. But he had pulled himself together more as the story had progressed.

"I see," Goliath replied with a nod. He had told the boy to start at the beginning, and then had listened to the entire thing without a word. "We do have a few pages of the Grimorum Nacimorum, if you wish to look at them," he offered.

"There lies the fundamental difference between a Magus and a sorcerer. This Magus you seem so upset at relied on that book, it literally was his power. A sorcerer relies on no such artifacts; my magic comes from my blood. Thanks for the thought, but any spells on those pages would be useless to me. The only reason that I even say arcane words is to focus my will. I don't need all that complicated mumbo jumbo," Nicholas explained, "Wow, that sounded arrogant."

"I did not notice," Goliath said honestly. The voice patterns of modern day humans were beyond his understanding. Sometimes Elisa would say something sarcastic, and he would take her too literally. She had stopped being sarcastic with him some time ago. "Were you born with your magic? Our Magus learned from a master since the day he could speak. You said that you also had a master."

"Yeah, I was born with it. Don't know how or why, maybe my mom's a sorcerer too. I don't know, she left when I was young, and my dad never really talked about her. Could be genetic, or it could just be random. You know how unpredictable magic can be," Nick said with a shrug.

"Indeed."

"My teacher was a mage more similar to your Magus. He learned from a book and tried to teach me from one. We both quickly discovered that it wasn't working out. But he was a really smart man, and he figured out what I was and taught me to control myself," Nick explained, buttoning up his shirt. "What about your Magus, why do you hate him so much?"

"Because, he froze the last of my clan in stone for a thousand years," Goliath said. He retold the story of the battle of Castle Wyvern, how they had been betrayed by the one human they had trusted, and how it had cost them the entire clan. Then the princess and the Magus had been captured, and when they had gone to rescue them, the Magus had become enraged and trapped them in stone with his spell. "We were freed from the spell when Xanatos rebuilt our castle atop his building. With Castle Wyvern above the clouds, we are once again able to live our lives, though it will never be the same."

"I had no idea. It's good at least a few of you survived. I'm glad, and Elisa really is too. You tell really great stories. Got any other good stor- I'm missing one," Nick interrupted himself. He had been putting on his many watches during the tale, and as he buckled the last one, he found the count to be low.

"Lexington!" Goliath called out. The little olive gargoyle appeared from around a corner, holding the watch in hand.

"Sorry, I just wanted to see what your obsession was. It doesn't even have any microchips; I don't see what the big deal is. I didn't think you'd notice, you're wearing seven of them," Lexington said as he scampered back and handed back the fake Rolex.

"Yeah, well, I'd notice this one being gone," he replied, taking back the watch, "You see this?" Nick pointed to an arcane symbol etched into the watch's back. "That's how I was able to dodge you guys when we first met. It's nowhere near as strong as my normal reflex spell, but it works." He buckled it back onto his right arm. "I got one to keep me warm in winter, one to protect against germs, and even one that lets me stay up late. Just the little stuff. And as for the clock thing, it's just an obsess- Wait, you have a kitchen?"

"You do not pay attention to your surroundings, do you?" Goliath said, arching his brow.

"It's not my greatest strength. I wonder if you got any herbs?" Nick muttered offhandedly.

"Broadway's the only one that cooks, he would know. Hey Broadway!" Lexington called out. Broadway had been sitting in front of the television, watching some detective movie. It was his night with the TV, though Brooklyn was relaxing in front of it too. At the call, Broadway paused the tape and looked up. "He wants to know if you got any herbs." Broadway gave him a strange look.

"Not drugs," Nick said with a chuckle, "Herbs, that you cook with." The young sorcerer walked over to stand next to the large gargoyle. "Could you show me what you have?" Broadway nodded and got up from his seat.

"You want to turn that back on?" Brooklyn said from the couch. "That's okay, I'll do it." Sarcasm tinged his voice as he reached over and grabbed the remote. The movement caused a wince of pain. His ribs had been the only things hurt in their little scuffle. They would heal while he slept.

"Why do you want herbs?" Broadway asked as they walked to the kitchen, more than a little confused.

"To make a healing potion," he replied, "That stuff that I said would make me all pretty again, I might be able to make some here. It'll heal anything except for cuts. A powerful potion that tastes like crap." He opened the cabinet that Broadway showed him. It was full of all different kinds of food, mostly canned, but there were some dried herbs in the corner. "Thyme, sage, rosemary, and, come on, yes! The most important ingredient, vanilla." Broadway made a face of disgust, mixing those things together would taste worse than anything he could think of. Nick grabbed a bowl and started adding the spices together. "So, tell me about yourself," he said as he filled the bowl with water and lit a fire beneath it with his fingers.

"About me, or gargoyles?" Broadway asked, grabbing a can of raviolis out of the cabinet. Nick shrugged. So Broadway talked about himself, mostly with his mouth full. He told about the time he had been Elisa's partner when they had gone after that old mob boss, and how he had gotten to reenact a scene from one of his favorite movies. After five minutes, the water had come to a boil. "…And then I came down on the ladder and knocked him into a puddle, just like in the movie. Here's the best part, I said the line 'You made one mistake, you messed with my partner, and when you mess with-"

"Not that story again," Brooklyn rolled his eyes as he walked up to join them.

"You ruined the best part!" Broadway wined. He emptied the last of the can into his mouth and chewed with a scowl.

"You can tell me again a little later," Nick said, blowing at the steaming liquid. "It's ready, now all I have to do is cast the spell." The two gargoyles gave him a look. "What, you didn't think that this stuff was a healing potion all by itself! It just holds and enhances the spell. Without this crap, the spell is useless. Not sure why, but, whatever." His eyes closed as he began to mutter under his breath, each word in an arcane tongue. The liquid began to bubble and froth as the magical energies worked their way through his potion. Still chanting under his breath, he lifted the bowl up to his lips and took a deep swig. His cheeks immediately puffed out and he covered his mouth in order to suppress his gag reflex. But after a second of trying not to spit the concoction out, he was able to force the vile drink down. Its effect was immediate. His black eye drained of color as the swelling went down. A faint cracking could be heard in his chest as his fractured ribs were mended. "Stuff tastes so bad it's almost not worth it. Almost. There's a little left, do you want some for your ribs?" he asked, offering the bowl to Brooklyn.

"There's no way I'm putting that stuff in my body," Brooklyn said, waving his hands before him.

"Suit yourself," Nick replied with a shrug. He placed the bowl back on the counter. "It should hold the spell for a few more hours if you change your mind. Guess I'll be going, it's been nice," he turned and walked to the center of the room, preparing to teleport.

"Wait a second," Broadway called out before he could vanish, "I'm going to cook something for everybody, if you want to stay. Besides, I didn't get to finish my story."

"It's been a while since I had a home cooked meal," Nick said with a smile, "I'd love to."

"What are you making?" Lexington popped up, "Can you make some spaghetti, we haven't had any for nearly a month."

"No sauce," Broadway said as he looked through the cabinets. "We got the noodles, but no sauce."

"Just give me five minutes, I'll get some sauce," Nick pulled out his wallet and disappeared. Lexington let out a hoot as Broadway started to boil the noodles.

"The storm has died," Goliath said, looking out of the clock's face. After a half hour of raging, the magical weather had subsided. "Now that it is safe, we should begin our nightly patrol."

"Can't it wait until after dinner," Lex asked. He had been waiting for spaghetti ever since the last time Broadway had made it.

"Aye, lad, let us fill our bellies before we go," Hudson put in, "I'd like a chance to speak with the mage as well."

"Very well," Goliath replied, "I shall take the first rounds. I am not hungry." He exited the room through the clockface door. Through the yellow glass, they saw him spread his wings and leap into the night.

True to his word, Nick reappeared within five minutes, carrying a paper bag of groceries. "I got some Italian bread too, there should be enough for everybody. Where's Goliath?"

"He left," Broadway said, hovering about the kitchen, "Bring that over here." With all of his ingredients finally in his grasp, Broadway could really begin cooking. He chopped up some sausage with his cooking knife just as he'd seen Emerald to on TV. Though he didn't realizing it, he had begun to hum some song he'd heard while on patrol last week.

Nick noticed, as the smell seeped through the room, that they didn't have a table. He would have to change that. Muttering under his breath, he traced a large rectangle in the air. This motion was repeated on the floor, though not by him. As if a knife had been cut into the floor, Nick was able to magically lift up a large rectangular section of the stone. The table was quickly followed by five circular 'seats' that he raised around the table. Each stone piece hung in the air, supported only by his magic. And the best part was that once the meal was over, he could just seamlessly put the pieces back into the floor. It would be as if nothing had ever been done.

Everyone gathered around the table, even Bronx decided to lie beside the floating slab of stone. Eating together like this would be a new experience, as gargoyles had no real need to do so. When they did eat, it would just be around the room, never gathered around a single piece of furniture. Even the plates had been a recent addition to their eating customs, for the messier foods, such as the spaghetti that Lexington had become so fond of, were not something that they normally ate. For the longest time, their hands had been the only things they had needed to satisfy their hunger.

But they sat around the table anyway, adapting to culture as they had to. It was a generous spread, but they were gargoyles, eliminating any doubt that it would all be eaten. And while they ate, they talked. Stories were traded back and forth by everyone there. The gargoyles told tales of their adventures both in the 900s, and in the present day. Lexington told about the time that he had trusted The Pack, who turned out to be sport-crazed hunters. Then they had gone after Hyena and Jackal with a helicopter that Lexington himself had fixed. It lead to Brooklyn telling the story of how he had been appointed second-in-command after The Pack had gotten some enhancements and captured Goliath, Hudson, and Elisa.

Broadway told them about the time he had been captured by Macbeth when the man had gotten the Scrolls of Merlin. Then it was Hudson's turn, and many of his tales were of the past. How he had fought the arch mage for instance, and other stories of how he had led the clan. But some of his retellings were only a year or so old, such as his night long fight against Demona, and when he had been captured by Xanatos to test the man's pot of immortality. "…And when that darn robot picked me up, I took the piece of stone from my pocket and stabbed the thing in the eye. After it let go, I took my sword back from Xanatos by force, and took my leave. Not before giving him a piece of my mind, though, the greedy cuss."

Through it all, Nick listened with interest, intrigued with the gargoyles' different point of view. But after everyone had taken their turn and told their tale, they urged him to tell of his adventures. So he spoke of the time his teacher and he had defended their home against some rival mages that were after his teacher's spell book. He had even fought one of them all by himself at the age of fourteen. The mage had been using a magical artifact to increase his power, but Nick had still prevailed. "…so the tentacles have me, and they're crushing me, right? It's then that I notice that I can't see any shadows, which meant that the tentacles themselves were made of shadow-stuff. That's the technical term, by the way. So I cast the biggest light spell I know and the tentacles just vanish. Once I knew that his powers were coming from his shadow-cloak, it was just a matter of using light and fire to destroy it."

"It sounds like a magical battle is a lot like a game of chess," Lexington said with his mouth full of bread.

"There's definitely a lot of strategy involved, I'm not going to lie. You can't just run in, guns blazing," Nick replied.

But the food could only last for so long with four hungry gargoyles at the table, and pretty soon it was all gone. The stone slab was cleared and lowered back into the floor. Just as he had predicted, one couldn't even tell that the floor had been cut into. "Holy-, it's one o' clock already! I still have to cast the identification spell tonight! It's been really great, I mean really, but I have to go."

"You coming back tomorrow?" Brooklyn asked, fake boxing into the air, "You still have to show me some of those moves."

"Don't worry, I'll be here when you wake up. Elisa said she'd come pick me up," he waved, and turned as if to walk away, before vanishing into thin air.

"So what do you think, Hudson," Lexington asked the elder.

Hudson nodded, "The lad's got more honor than any other mage I've ever known, and I've known a few."

* * *

Nick leaned against the counter, rubbing his eyes. He hadn't gotten to sleep until four o' clock last night, or was it this morning? He was too tired to care. Though he didn't like using it, he put on a green-faced watch, with the arcane glyph for 'wake' etched into the back. It took away his sleepiness, but, like a cup of coffee right before bed, he would have trouble sleeping tonight as well. He'd hate to have to cast a sleep spell on himself. He watched the sun sink low into the sky as he mulled over what his identification spell had uncovered. It couldn't be true, it just couldn't.

"Detective Maza," Nick welcomed as she walked into his shop.

"Hi, you ready to go? Everyone told me they had a blast last night. Especially Brooklyn," she said with a wink. Nick rolled his eyes.

"Nine people asked me if I got into a fight today, and I lied to all of them. Said I had hit my head on the table and cut my lip," he said with a shrug.

"So how did the spell turn out?" Elisa asked.

"I cast it three times because I didn't believe it. Heck, I'm still don't quite believe it," Nick replied, looking down at the counter. "But the result was the same every time. The person who cast that spell," he looked up at her, his inner turmoil evident in his eyes, "was my old teacher."

* * *

Sorry for the slow chapter. The action begins again in the next instalment, when we start heading towards the climax.


	7. Chapter 7: Armored Escort

Chapter Seven: Armored Escort

The two waited on the balcony of the clock tower as the sun began to disappear below the horizon. Nick couldn't help but notice the looks Elisa was shooting him when she thought he wasn't looking. He knew what she was thinking; he couldn't help but think it too. It was his master that had cast the storm and tried to kill the gargoyles in their sleep. His teacher, who had taught him everything he knew. This discovery undermined the trust that he had only just received. If his old teacher was the one attacking him, then what would they think he was, a mole? A man on the inside, made to win their trust just so he could use it against them? There had to be a way to convince them otherwise.

Then came the moment they had both been waiting for, as the sun vanished beneath the horizon. Hairline cracks appeared in the statues around them, widening as the figures came to life. Chips of stone began to flake off, falling to the streets below. Roars broke the night, signaling the gargoyles' full awakening.

"Elisa," Goliath said, stepping off of his nightly perch, "It is good to see you."

"Likewise," Elisa replied quickly, "But we have a bit of news. Nick?" She shot him another look, indicating for him to begin. Nick looked around briefly. All of the gargoyles had gathered around now, drawn by Elisa's sense of urgency. This wasn't going to be easy.

"I cast an identification spell on last night's storm. Every mage's spells carry a magical signature, not unlike a fingerprint," he explained, directing the last part to Broadway. "When I first learned the spell it was with my teacher's signature. That's how I recognized it right away. He was the one who cast the storm spell last night. I didn't even know he had a storm spell that powerful, but that wouldn't be the first secret that he's kept from me." Nick paused, looking at their reactions. There was confusion, looks of anger, and glances up at the sky, as if they were expecting an attack then and there. But one expression was absent, and it surprised him. None of them were considering him with suspicion.

"Do you know why he has attacked us?" Goliath asked, his arm around Elisa's shoulders. The question wasn't lased with an accusative tone, nor did it carry a demanding undertone.

"No, I don't. You have to understand, I haven't spoken to my master in years. That's the way a master-apprentice relationship works. Once the student is strong enough, he or she is dismissed, and the teacher becomes as much a rival as any other mage. But he won't be able to cast another spell of that magnitude for a few days. I'm going to try to contact him and explain what's going on. He's a good man, if a little short sighted. Maybe he thinks he's protecting the city from a threat. All I know is that he doesn't know you like I do," Nick said. It felt like he was standing before a judge.

"We don't doubt you, lad," Hudson said, clasping the boy on the shoulder. Nick stiffened under the elder's touch. Hudson let his hand drop.

"Yes, speak to your master, and tell him that we are of no threat to this city," Goliath said, "It is quite the opposite. We are here for its protection."

"I'll make sure to pass the message along," Nick said with nod. "I'm going to cast a tracer spell on the residual energy tonight. The magical after-effects of that thing are going to hang around for over a week. It's going to take, like, two hours, but I'll find where he cast it from. A spell that big had to have been cast from a pre planned location with all of the equipment he'd need." Goliath nodded, that was good enough for him. He pointed to Brooklyn, then to the night sky. It was their turn for the nightly patrol. The two gargoyles leaped off of the edge and flew into the city. "Guess I'll be going now, I've got a good two hours of casting ahead of me…" Nick's voice trailed off as he turned, taking a step toward the edge of the building.

"Lad," Hudson said before the boy could teleport away, "I want to talk to you." He took Nick by the shoulder, noting how he squirmed beneath his touch, and led him into their home. "If you're going to be coming around here more often, then I need to know what your problem is with me."

Nick closed his eyes as if he'd been dealt a blow. He had known that this moment would come, but, for the life of him, he just didn't have an answer. "I don't know." The grizzled gargoyle gave him a hard stare. "I'm not avoiding the question, really. I feel uncomfortable around you. Heck, you scare the crap out of me. It doesn't make any sense if you think about it," Nick continued, his words becoming frenzied, "Goliath is more imposing than you. Broadway is bigger than you. Brooklyn has a bigger temper than you. Lex-no wait, he's only scary in a little impish kind of way. But you get my point! Don't get me wrong. You scare grown men, but so do they. Yet I'm not afraid of them, I'm afraid of you." As he finished, his chest heaved, trying to catch his breath. His hands had been moving the entire time, pointing, waving, and motioning to emphasize his point. Hudson had just listened to the rant calmly, trying to glean something useful from it. But there was nothing to take; it was the ravings of a mad man.

"Aye, lad, I truly think you are afraid," Hudson muttered, "The other lads told me of the fight you had in here a few nights back. And of your little rooftop scuffle the next night. The one thing they kept saying was that you were composed, even when Goliath attacked ye. I wasn't convinced, lad, 'cause every time I've seen ye, you've been skittish as a mouse. Do try to get over it, lad, 'cause I'd like to see the stonehearted magician they keep telling me about." He clasped the boy on the shoulder once more and turned to leave. Perhaps he would try and catch up to Goliath and Brooklyn. There was nothing else to do this evening. He stepped up onto the edge of the stone balcony and looked out to the sky. What he saw ground his plans to a halt.

Nick was just about to teleport away when he heard the smooth ring of a sword. Looking up, he saw Hudson standing on the balcony's edge, his curved blade in hand. Growls issued from the other gargoyles outside of his sight, signaling the danger. "What is it?" Nick asked, appearing next to Elisa.

"See for yourself," the detective replied, pointing up at the night sky. Eight trails of flame marked the passage of eight robotic monsters as they made their way toward the clock tower. "I completely forgot about Xanatos when you came into the picture," Elisa cursed herself.

"I'm flattered," Nick said, his eyes flashing, "But what's the plan?"

"We smash 'em," Broadway growled, slamming his fist into his hand.

"One problem, big guy, they're all green," Nick replied, squinting his eyes against the darkness. But then a grin splayed across his face as he caught Broadway's eye. "But that won't be a problem, now will it?" Broadway nodded, punching his hand again.

"You two stay here," Hudson commanded, "We're taking this to the skies." The three gargoyles leaped into the air, letting the wind fill their wings. They closed the gap with the robots quickly, though the steel clan had the advantage of range. Red beams of light pierced the night sky, forcing the gargoyles into evasive maneuvers. They flew in circles, doing all they could to avoid the laser fire. It was a losing battle, however, for they were only three, fighting against eight.

Bronx howled and barked to the sky as his clan fought. Elisa put her hand on his head to quiet him. She understood his frustration, especially since she was feeling it herself. Being grounded when all of her friends were fighting above her, that feeling of helplessness, it tore her up inside. An idea came to her. "Do you have a spell that'll make us fly?" she asked Nick.

"Nope, but don't worry about it. Looks like the fight is coming to us," he pointed to the skies. With the gargoyles outnumbered, they had been unable to prevent three of the robots from breaking away to attack those still on the ground. "Get inside!" Nick commanded, his hands going up in flames. Elisa pulled out her gun. This kid obviously didn't know whom he was talking to. The robots began to lay down fire as soon as they were within range, forcing Elisa and Nick to dive for cover.

Hudson let out an angry roar. He had let those monstrosities past while another had distracted him. His eyes flared white with anger. "Broadway!" the elder roared, "Get down there and help them!" With his strength enhanced by his anger, Hudson charged right through one of the robot's defenses, ridding it of its head with one stoke of his sword. Now that the numbers were more manageable for them, Broadway broke away and dove down to the clock tower. One machine noticed his descent and flew after him. Lexington tried to engage the robot, keep it off of Broadway's back, but he found himself engaged before he could make a move.

These green robots were armed with better weapons, made of better materials, and programmed with better commands. But they were still only machines. Broadway dove as quickly as he could, trying to reach the three machines before they managed to hit one of the humans. As he flew, he could hear the roaring jetpack of the one following him, and acted accordingly. Suddenly spreading his wings, Broadway caught a draft that kicked him back up into the air, slamming him into the robot before it could react. Knocked off course, the android spun end over end until Broadway caught it, crashing the machine into one of its comrades. What had once been eight was now down to five, a much more manageable number.

Nick heard the explosion, and decided to sneak a peek from behind his cover. The sight did not please him. Both of the robots had fused together at the moment of impact, and now their flaming carcasses were screaming down at them. Vanishing, Nick teleported over to where Elisa was crouched behind the lip of the balcony. He grabbed the arm of her jacket, and then reached over to place his hand upon Bronx's flank. Elisa knew what was coming next, so she closed her eyes tight and took a big gulp of air. Her suspicions proved right, and a second later she felt that rough tug, followed by the brief moment of weightlessness before she found herself back on solid ground. The three of them were now inside of the clock tower's large room. And not a moment too soon, for barely a second after they had teleported, there came a loud crash from outside as the two robots crashed into the balcony.

In the skies above, the fight had taken an interesting turn. Though they were still defending themselves, the steel clan was no longer attacking. Hudson noted it all with interest. What was their purpose here? With no warning, the three robots that they were fighting broke away, flying down to the clock tower. "After them!" Hudson roared, dropping into a dive with Lexington by his side. But the machines were much faster, and they reached their target long before the gargoyles could catch up. They crashed through the clock's glass face, busing into the clock tower. Even the two that Broadway had engaged broke away to enter the gargoyle's home.

All five of the steel clan hovered inside, their lasers trained on the three below. Nick and Bronx stood before Elisa, whose only defense came from her nine-mil. The steel clan fired, raining red bolts down upon them. A single arcane word burst forth from Nick's lips. Directly translated, it meant shield. With a brief flash of light, a giant medieval shield appeared before them, blocking the energy blasts. Despite its magical origins, it was still only steel, and the lasers were melting it to slag under their unrelenting fire.

Broadway and Hudson dove through the large hole that the robots had made in the glass face and slammed into two of the machines. Both of them crashed into the floor, creating sparks as the metal gargoyles slid along the stones. Hudson stood upon his enemy, pinning it to the ground with his foot. With the android's face pressed against the floor, it was unable to defend itself as Hudson put his sword through its chest. Broadway was not so lucky. The robot he had tackled reacted quickly, grabbing him and throwing the heavy gargoyle from its back. Slamming into the wall, Broadway was dazed from the impact. His foe regained its feet, its laser cannon unfolding from its wrist.

Nick spread his arms wide, yelling a string of words unknown to all but him. A cloud of knives appeared around his shoulders. There were kukris, snake daggers, kunai, and serrated combat knives hanging in the air about him. As his hands snapped forward, and so did his daggers, flying as if throw by an expert marksmen. Each dagger imbedded itself to the hilt in the robot's metal hide. The machine collapsed; smoke billowing out of its many wounds. Broadway then regained his footing, sending a nod of thanks Nick's way. The sorcerer returned it with a smile.

Caught off guard by the wordless exchange, a single robot was able to make its way past Nick's magical defenses unmolested. It grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms with a steel hug. A roar filled the room as the android's jetpack ignited, propelling it and its hostage out of the room through the giant hole in the clock's face. Nearly as soon as it had cleared the clock tower, the robot simply let go of its packaged, dropping Nick to the streets below. Thinking fast, the mage vanished, teleporting to the first location he could see. Not a second later, he reappeared on the rooftop directly across from the clock tower. He landed hard, but was able to keep his footing and quickly locate his threat.

Surprisingly, the steel gargoyle did not fire at him as it flew down. In fact, it seemed to descend in a way that was intentionally non-threatening, coming down feet first instead of simply diving at full speed. When it landed, it did so a few feet away, then slowly walked forward with its palms out. As it stopped, a slim tube extended from its upturned palm. Then, it just stood there, still as a statue. Slowly, Nick approached, more intrigued than anything else. He closed in, and once he was within arm's reach, the robot moved ever so slightly. Its hand extended farther, as if offering the tube it had ejected from its palm. Nick took the offering, looking the item over. It was a simple iron tube, only about a foot long, with a twist off cap on one end. "What is thi-" Nick asked, looking up. He immediately ducked as a red lance passed right over his head. With a few choice words, he ran his hand along the roof at the robot's feet. At his command, the material leaped up and formed into a single, thick spike, skewering the machine where it stood.

"I'm coming for ya, lad!" came Hudson's call from the night sky. He flew from the clock tower, scanning the area for the lost mage. But as he looked around, he failed to notice the robot coming out behind. When he had left, Bronx had been on top of one, and Broadway had the other, so Hudson wasn't looking over his shoulder. It was a mistake that he quickly paid for. From the underside of its wrist, the robot fired a taser that clipped onto Hudson's leathery wing. An instant later, electricity climbed down the taser's line, sending thousands of volts into the elder. Every muscle in his wing seized, dropping him like a stone. He was too far away from the tower to grab onto it, and his other wing was numb from the shock. There was nothing he could do. The street waited below.

Nick saw it all from the rooftop, and as Hudson fell, he ran. He leaped off of the roof just as he had done before, only this time, he jumped toward what he had had once jumped away from. As soon as his foot cleared the roof, he vanished. Hudson looked up to find the boy directly above him, his hand extended. The glow from the streetlamps reached them as they fell, and they were only seconds away from impact when Hudson grabbed the outstretched hand. They both vanished.

Rematerializing back on the rooftop, the two tumbled end over end from the rough landing. Hudson groaned, both from the lingering pain of that shock, and from the ache in his bones, rattled upon reentry. Nick rolled over, away from the dazed gargoyle. Not inches away from him, three laser blasts created tiny smoking craters. The two of them started, both reaching for Hudson's discarded sword. Of the two of them, the younger was faster. Nick grabbed the weapon and vanished. He reappeared directly above the machine, flames running along the length of the blade.

The robot looked up, its red eyes scanning this new threat. It identified the organic, then hesitated. Its programming had identified this one as a ranged attacker, and had given commands accordingly. Now that the organic was acting outside of its regular behaviors, and the machine's programming didn't know what to do. Such was the weakness of a computer's intelligence. Nick came down of the robot, bringing the flaming blade down as well. With the magical fire heating it, the weapon cut through the robot's steel skin as if it were clay. The two parts of the android separated and exploded as Nick vanished.

"How was that for stone hearted?" Nick asked, leaning on his knees. He hadn't performed so many spells since the days under the tutelage of his old master, and it exhausted him. Hudson replied with a grunt, his bones creaking as he sat up. Nick offered his hand, the other still holding Hudson's sword. With a heavy grunt, the boy helped him up, but there was only so much he could do when trying to lift a full-grown gargoyle. "You ready to 'port again?" Nick asked, nodding his head toward the clock tower.

"I think not," Hudson replied, spreading his wings wide. Now that the shock had worn off, he was able to fly again. Besides, he was too old for another landing like that. He took back his curved sword, still glowing red from the magic fire.

"Suit yourself," Nick said with a shrug, turning and vanishing. Hudson shook his head as he took to the air. The boy was suffering from the curse of youth. He was in far too great a hurry, and he didn't seem to think things through. That would be corrected as he got more years under his belt. By the time he got back to the clock tower, they were already beginning to clean up the robot parts. As he landed, Bronx shuffled over to him, head low and stubby tail between his legs. It didn't take too much to figure out that the robot that had shocked him had gotten away from this one.

"It's alright, Bronx," Hudson said, placing his hand on the beast's head, "No harm done." The words put Bronx at ease, and his tail shook just like it always did. The flutter of leathery wings drew their attention to the door, where Goliath and Brooklyn were gliding through the opening.

"What has happened here?" Goliath asked, eyeing the pile of machine scrap in the corner.

"We got a visit from our metal friends," Elisa replied, moving closer to him.

"Any idea why?" Brooklyn called back as he inspected the damage done to their home. Heads shook all around the room. Nick's hands slipped into his pockets as he thought of a spell to fix the broken clock face. It was just glass, so maybe a simple mending, or perhaps a- His hand touched the metal rod in his pocket, and he drew it out.

"One of the robots gave me this," he said, drawing everyone's attention, "Right before it tried to take my head off." Nick care fully unscrewed the metal cap and pulled out the tube's contents. It was only a piece of yellowed parchment, covered in a barely legible script. But Nick could read it, for he knew it well. "It's a letter from my teacher. He wants to meet me tomorrow," his eyes squinted as he tried to read more, "At Castle Wyvern atop Xanatos Tower."


	8. Chapter 8: Meeting of the Minds

Chapter Eight: Meeting of the Minds

"To my Former Protégé," Nick read aloud, "Your involvement in the events of last night were noted with much surprise. I am pleased to learn that you are in the city, though your interference in my plans is troubling. We have always been on the same page in the past, and I hope that we may see eye to eye once more. That is why I wish to arrange a meeting. Please come to the tallest spire of Castle Wyvern, located atop Xanatos Tower at midnight. This is to be a peaceful discussion, which is why I wish you to come without your new friends. I believe you will find this to be an enlightening experience. We have much to discuss. Your Former Master, Tobias Solomon." Nick rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tick that he had recently developed. In fact, this was the first time he had performed it.

"You do realize that you're not going alone?" Elisa said. She was already running things through her head, trying to figure out every angle. Her training was kicking in, and she was analyzing every aspect of this single piece of evidence. The wording was important here, how he referred to himself as the Master, and Nick as his Protégé. It seemed that he was trying to assert control over his former student. There was little doubt to her that this was going to be more than a friendly chat. Then there was the issue of Xanatos' involvement. This entire thing stank of his doing.

"Yeah, I figured. But he specifically said to come alone. Whoever comes with me needs to be sneaky about it. May I suggest Lexington?" Nick offered. One thing that he had learned right off the bat was that arguing with Elisa would get him nowhere. He also figured that she was the one who wanted to come with him. But if someone had to tag along, he wanted it to be someone who could help if things went the wrong way. No offence to Elisa, but her pistol just couldn't measure up to a gargoyle's strength and endurance. So, of the gargoyles, it was Lexington that he trusted to stay hidden, to stay even-tempered no matter what was said. From what he gathered by the letter, there would most likely going to be a fair amount of gargoyle bashing.

"I'll do it," Lexington agreed.

"That's not your choice to make, lad," Hudson said with his arms crossed. He shot Goliath a look through his yellowed eye.

"It is a good idea," Goliath said, "I want you to go a half hour early to hide yourself before Nicholas goes. Do you remember the layout of the castle?"

"And its best hiding places. What do you think I did as a hatchling?" Lexington grinned devilishly. "I can think of more than a few places in that tower. Nobody will know I'm there." Goliath nodded again.

"Great. Like I said before, as soon as I explain everything to him, it will all be fine. You probably won't even be needed," Nick said.

"He sent Xanatos' robots after us just to deliver this message," Brooklyn said, his eyes narrow. "So he's not off to a great start. Keep on your toes, Lex."

* * *

"Are you ready for this?" Nick asked. He sat against the giant clock face, like new after a simple mending spell. The sun had come up and gone down again, and the meeting time was only a half hour away.

"My part's easier than yours," Lexington replied, "You have to some serious negotiating to do. Talking is harder than fighting, for some of us at least." He shot a look at Brooklyn with a toothy grin. Brooklyn returned the look with a grin of his own, unsure of what his rookery brother had said.

"Stay close, would ya?" Nick said, "I don't know about this Xanatos, other than the news and what Elisa's told me. She makes him sound like the devil. But this could turn bad, and my master is a powerful magician."

"He's not you master anymore, remember that," Lexington reminded him. It would do no good to go in there with a feeling of inferiority. Nick nodded. He wasn't letting on, but this meeting with his old teacher was making him nervous. It had been years since he had spoken to this man. What worried him almost as much was that fact that it worried him. A week ago, he would have gone to the meeting as if he were going to lunch, without a care in the world. But now his palms were sweating, and he didn't know why. Hopefully it wouldn't affect his spell casting if it came down to that. The truth was that he wasn't a hundred percent sure about how his powers worked.

"You should get going, lad," Hudson said, "You still have to sneak in, remember?" Lex waved before jumping off the balcony. "He's got your back, lad," Hudson reminded the young magician.

"I know," Nick replied with a sigh, leaning his head back against the wall. "And what's better than a bodyguard that can bench press a car? He is that strong, right? It doesn't matter, he'll be good enough." He blew into his hands, a small tongue of flame issuing from his lips. The watch on his right wrist protected him against the September air, but his hands were tense, and the flames helped to ease the tension. "I owe this guy so much. He practically saved my life. I don't know what he has to say, but it'll be hard to go against his word." He met Hudson's eye, "But I won't back down. Whatever it takes, I'll get him to stop his attacks on you, I promise."

"I don't doubt you, lad. Before I was leader of the clan, I had a mentor just as I was Goliath's. I would have done anything for him. But one time, I had a disagreement with him over a decision he was going to make. We came to blows over it. Even though he beat me senseless, he realized that I was right. Just because someone is your mentor doesn't mean that they're right all the time. Just remember that, lad," Hudson said.

Nick let out a whistle, "Pep talks from gargoyles, heh, what's next. I'm kidding, thanks, really. Everything will be fine, don't worry."

"I'm not, worrying, lad, you are." Hudson folded his wings around him like a cloak, though not without an audible groan. "It's just my back. I must have woken up a little too wild."

"You threw your back out is what you did," Nick said, taking his feet. "Turn around. I'm serious, turn around." Hudson complied, but kept his good eye looking over his shoulder. "Before I opened the clock shop, I worked at a chiropractor. Guy thought I was twenty, heh, man I love illusions. Anyway, I cracked backs for a good two years. Now stand still." He ran a knuckle along the gargoyle's spine, trying to find the point where his spine was misaligned. The point was near the bottom, in the lumbar region. That's were it almost always was. The next step was to realign it, but that would be tricky with a creature built to take blows. Better use his elbow. "Ready?"

"For what?" Hudson asked, turning to look over this shoulder again. The only answer he got was the boy's elbow driving into his back. With a roar of surprise, he turned, his wings spreading wide. "Jalapeno," the elder breathed, his hand over this back. The blow had worked; his spine was back in alignment and the pain was gone. "You seem to have found your use, lad."

"No need to thank me, your amazed stare is thanks enough," Nick said with a smile and a bow. "I'll see you in an hour, really." And just like that, he was gone.

* * *

The night before, Broadway had led him across the rooftops to an area where Castle Wyvern was visible through the clouds. From that vantage point, he had been able to see the tallest tower, which meant that he could teleport there. That was where he was now, on the tallest spire of Castle Wyvern. He was a few minutes early, but that was just the way he liked it. Lexington was probably already in place, which meant that all he had to do was wait. It wasn't five minutes later that he heard the hatch open up from the inside, swinging open on squeaky hinges. Appearing through the hole came a most familiar face.

His old master was dressed in a gray suit, the collared shirt open at the neck. Head shaven, his short brown beard was streaked with white. Deep wrinkles lined the face, but his eyes glistened with knowledge and understanding. He may have looked like someone's rich grandpa, but few could fathom the power his mind held. "Nicholas," he said, spreading his arms wide, "It is good to see you, my boy!" Solomon grabbed his former apprentice's hand, shaking heartily.

"It's been a long time, sir," Nick replied as they pumped hands. His master smiled wide, showing yellowed teeth. Solomon had always enjoyed his cigars.

"Call me Solomon, my boy, we are equals now. Did you get my letter? Oh, of course you did, you're here after all! You know that you're the only one who can read my script, even after all these years. Let's get out of the cold, come," Solomon directed him through the hatch and down the stairs into a room that seemed overly warm when compared with the outside. They descended down the spiral staircase and into the large room beneath the tower. Behind them, a shadow scurried after. Lexington glided down the stairs well behind the two, making only the slightest whisper of a sound.

Once they reached the bottom, Nick was directed through an old fashioned wood door and into what could only be his master's workroom. Clashing sharply with his businessman attire, the room looked like something out of a fantasy novel. Tubes of bubbling liquid sat beside jars of suspended body parts. An eye followed them across the room from its jar, the iris still responding to light. Sitting on a pedestal at the end of the room was Solomon's spell book, bound in black leather. It was already open; a yellowed page covered in his flowing script stared back at them. Normally, his master would have never been so careless as to leave his book out when he had a guest, but they both knew that this magical text would do Nick no good.

Lexington hid in the rafters of the adjacent room, a shade among shadows. Once he was sure that the coast was clear, he glided softly to the ground and peered through the keyhole into the magician's study. Thankfully, Xanatos hadn't remodeled all of the doors in the castle. Through the keyhole, Lex could see and hear as if he were in the room with them. A meeting of the minds, the intelligent little gargoyle thought, this was going to be very interesting.

"We have a lot to talk about, and no offence, but you have some explaining to do," Nick said, running his hand over the counter as he walked.

"Right to the point I see. Not normally your style, but I can understand why. So you have made friends with these gargoyles, humm? Tell me, what do you know about them?" Solomon asked him.

"More than I learned in the books. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that the books are wrong. Did you know that a gargoyle could be interested in technology, or the culinary arts? The books said nothing of their desire to learn how to read, or their ability to care about someone. Why would you want to destroy that?" Nick demanded.

"You're referring to my storm spell I take it? As you might have guessed, I am currently in the employment of Mr. Xanatos. He has hired my services to eliminate the threat of these gargoyles. Mr. Xanatos told me of the damage done to the city by their fighting, and their deliberate destruction of his own property. When he told me that they turned to stone during the day, I decided that was the time to take them out. It would eliminate any fighting, and they wouldn't feel a thing. So I directed the storm spell to destroy them while they slept. The one thing I didn't count on was you," Solomon explained.

"It seems that your view of them is a little skewed. You see, they've told me about this Mr. Xanatos. According to a police detective, he's not somebody you can trust with anything. The reason that the gargoyles have been destroying his stuff is because he keeps using it to attack them, like last night for instance. That's one hell of a way to deliver a letter," Nick stared hard at his former master.

"I had to make sure that you would get it. Like I said, I had no previous knowledge of your presence in the city. The only place I was sure you were was at their clock tower. Mr. Xanatos suggested using his Steel Clan as a distraction in order to deliver it to you," Solomon replied.

"Frankly, I'm surprised that you were so easily taken in by a liar like Xanatos," the boy shot back.

"That hurts my feelings," came a new voice from the shadows. David Xanatos stepped through a door Nick hadn't known was there. The door was disguised as a section of the stone wall. Dressed in his usual black suit, the billionaire carried a small wooden box in his right hand. "I'd like to think of myself as a man of my word." He set the box on the counter, right next to the eye that still seemed alive. "Here's the ingredient you asked for."

"Ah, yes. Thank you very much Mr. Xanatos. This, Nick, is the reason I called you here. See, you think you know these gargoyles, but there is something you should know. Tell me, did you feel uncomfortable around any one of them in particular? I'll take it by your face that you did. It was the one called Hudson, right?" Solomon moved over and took the box off of the counter. Xanatos simply watched Nick with a cold smirk. "Tell me, do you remember the day I tried to teach you to cast a clairvoyance spell? You had no talent for the art of divination. I told you, on that day, to ask yourself what you wanted to know the most. When you cast that spell, all those years ago, you cast it to find out what had happened to your father. That spell failed, or at least I thought. Turns out that all you needed was an extra trigger to activate it. A few nights ago, you got that trigger, when you first saw this Hudson. You know where I'm going with this, don't you?" Nick's eyes had narrowed, but he shook his head. "The spell had stayed with you through all of these years. Though weakened significantly, it activated when you came in contact with that gargoyle, the last trigger needed. It warned you about what had happened, what that beast had done." Solomon looked hard at his former apprentice. Nick's face had become red, but he was otherwise unresponsive. "It was Hudson who killed you father."

"NO!" Nick shouted, slamming his fist on the counter, "You're lying! Hudson wasn't even alive when my father died!"

"Your very first spell was more powerful than you could have imagined. It broke the boundaries of time. Why do you think so many of those thugs were never found?" As he spoke, Solomon began to empty the contents of the box into a stone bowl. With a small pedestal, he set to grinding the contents into powder.

"Those are pieces of Hudson's stone skin, left over from when I used the Cauldron of Life," Xanatos explained. "According to Mr. Solomon, they can be used to glimpse into his memories. I never would have guessed it would pay off to keep those hunks of stone." While Xanatos had talked, Solomon had started chanting over the bowl as he ground its contents to dust. That was the spell his book was open to, one to view a person's memories. As his chanting died off, he poured the dust onto a piece of paper.

"Breath this in and try to focus on your father, the spell will do the rest," Solomon instructed. The look on Nick's face showed that he didn't believe a word of it, so this had better be really good. Lifting the paper to his lips, Solomon blew the powder away, sending a cloud in the boy's direction. Nick took a deep breath as the cloud flew in his face. Instantly, his mind was transported to another place entirely.

The world spun around his head, a hundred images flowing in a whirlwind of activity. Focus, he had to focus if he wanted to get anywhere. He thought of Hudson, this was his skin after all. At his thought, the spinning slowed, just enough for him to see what was going on. He caught glimpses of the gargoyles life. But what he saw was everything, every moment. The images flashed before him. Nick saw the battle against the arch mage, and the fight against Wolf. Too chaotic; there was just too much to sort through. Focus. His father, he needed to find his father. Everything shifted again, settling down to two images. Seeing through Hudson's eyes, he saw a female gargoyle, her skin a deep blue. In her arms, she held a small, light blue hatchling. "He's your son," the female said, passing the child to Hudson.

"No, my love, he's the clan's son," Hudson replied, refusing to take the baby. Nick heard the response as if he had said it himself. No, this was the wrong image. Focus. It shifted again, focusing on the second image. This was the right one. Hudson was on the roof of a tower, speaking to the woman from the previous vision. His arm was around the female's waist, holding her close. Even as he watched, the very air seemed to crack between them, spreading until there was an undeniable fissure. It widened as the two split apart. Hudson drew his sword as he stepped away. What Nick saw made him hold his breath. Through the crack, he could see himself, only eight years old. His counterpart was kneeling on the ground, clutching his head as if in pain. His very first spell had been so painful, he would never forget.

Suddenly, a body was forced through the fissure. The face was unmistakable, that of his late father. Fear splayed across his face as he was thrust into the past. "Sorcery!" Hudson roared. The gargoyle grabbed him by the neck and drew him close. Nick grew tense, for his mind had already put it together what was about to happen. With another roar, Hudson plunged the blade into his father's stomach. Watching through the gargoyle's eyes, Nick was forced to watch as the life drained from his father's eyes. Ripping the sword from his guts, Hudson threw him back through the fissure, which closed as if it had never been. "ENOUGH!" Nick shouted.

Nick awoke to find himself on the stone floor of the study. He felt like he was choking. His eyes watered and his nose ran. A rough hand grabbed him off of the floor and pressed a white towel into his hand. Pressing the towel to his face, Nick wiped his face, slick with sweat. As he took the cloth away from his face he took his first breath since he had started the spell. Looking down at the white towel, he found all of the stone dust pressed into its fibers. It seemed to make a face. Yes, he could see eyes, and a nose, and a beard. Nick released a wild shout, tearing the towel as his hands went up in flames. Ashes fell all around him as he seethed.

"How are you, my boy?" Solomon asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"I-I trusted him," Nick growled, leaning on the counter, "I trusted the man who killed my father!" His eyes were wild, flashing repeatedly as he went over what he had just seen. "I'll kill him," he panted, "I'll kill him!" He slammed his hands against the counter, rattling all of the jars on the surface.

"I thought you wanted them all dead. He will only attempt to kill Hudson, none of the others," Solomon said quietly.

"His temper is extremely volatile," Xanatos replied, "I'm sure there will be some collateral damage. My robots will take care of what he doesn't." Nick stormed from the room, practically throwing the door off of its hinges as he burst through. He stopped suddenly, listening. Without warning, his hand shot up, lightning firing into the ceiling. Lexington fell from the rafters, moaning in pain. "See? He'll take them all out. He's the perfect weapon," Xanatos smirked as Nick continued on his way.


	9. Chapter 9: Revenge

Chapter Nine: Revenge

"Would you calm down?" Brooklyn asked, reclining in front of the TV.

"No, I won't," Hudson growled, pacing across the room, "Not until they get back. The lad said it would only take an hour, but they've been gone for two."

"Relax, old friend," Goliath said, "Nicholas seems to have a habit of exaggerating. I am sure that they are fine." The stairs creaked from the entrance to the police station, signaling Elisa's presence.

"Any word?" she asked. Elisa had checked in every half hour since midnight, despite Goliath's protests.

"Not a one, lass," Hudson replied as he made another lap across the room. "If they're not back in thirty minutes, I say we go after them." But even as he finished his words, they heard a single footstep. That was the sound the boy's entrance, the only sound associated with his teleportation. "You took your time, lad. Lexington's flying back, I take it? Lad?"

From the moment he had entered the room, Elisa had detected that something was wrong. For one thing, he had entered silently, his jaw shut tight. The way his shoulders were tight and his hands were clenched showed that he was under a great deal of stress. But what really gave him away were his eyes, and the way they seemed to burn with a rage kept just below the surface. He took a single step forward, leaving a flaming footprint in his wake. Elisa's hand went for her gun. Something was very wrong here.

Flames erupted about his body, but they were green instead of his usual red, and never before had his fire made his skin translucent to the bone, as if he were a flaming skeleton. Everyone got to their feet, crouching in preparation for whatever was about to happen. Nick took another step forward, the flames beginning to condense around his left hand. "Don't act surprised," Nick growled through his teeth, "You had to have known I'd find out what you did."

"What are you talking about, lad?" Hudson asked, his face twisted in confusion.

"Don't play innocent!" Nick shouted. His hands shook, and his next step were so strong that a small plume of flame erupted around his foot. "You killed him!" Hudson's features remained contorted by confusion, but it only seemed to enrage the mage further. "You don't remember do you? How many people have you killed, that you don't even remember? They meant nothing to you! Do you ever think about how many mothers you've left without sons? How many wives without husbands?" His eyes narrowed; the flames had finished gathering around his hand. "How many sons you've left with out fathers?" He raised his hand, his thumb pressed hard against his middle finger. "Die, you monster!" With a snap, he released the pent up energy. The air directly in front of Hudson detonated into a great, green fireball. Hudson was hurled into the wall by the explosion, his head slamming into the stone.

With a roar, Goliath launched himself at the mage, his eyes glowing bright. Before he even got close, the sorcerer had vanished. But he was not the only one up in arms over the attack. Three more gargoyles were ready once Nick reappeared, but it was Brooklyn who got the shot. His glowing eyes flashed. He had beaten this kid once already; it wouldn't be that hard to do it again. Lashing out with a claw, he planned for the boy to duck. To his surprise, Nick caught him by the wrist, stopping the blow cold. The mage's blue eyes flashed, and without a word, he sent arcs of lightning along the gargoyle's body. Brooklyn let out a roar of pain, his knees going out from under him.

Nick let go and returned to his objective. His blast had only stunned the elder, and despite the nasty head wound, Hudson was beginning to recover. Suddenly lifted off of his feet, Nick felt all of the air being squeezed from his lungs. Broadway had come up from behind and grabbed him in a crushing bear hug. "What have you done to Lexington?" the behemoth growled.

"Nothing," Nick wheezed, "My fight is not with him." The magician managed another word, Latin for smoke. His physical form dissipated into thick, black smoke, easily escaping Broadway's choking hug. Reforming immediately, Nick gathered the air in his hand, condensing as much as he could into a ball the size of a marble. "Nor is it with you!" the sorcerer roared, thrusting the sphere of air into the gargoyle's overly large stomach. The released orb carried enough concussive force to hurl Broadway to the far side of the room.

Elisa lifted her 9mm pistol, lining up the sights. She was hoping to hit him in the arm or the leg, just incapacitate him, but if she had to, she would put him down. He was in her sights as he blew Broadway away, and her finger tightened on the trigger. When he turned to look at her, his eyes blazing, she very nearly shot him right then. It was only the force of his glare that stayed her hand. Nick teleported directly in front of her, his face right in hers, their noses practically touching. With him so close, Elisa was able to feel the heat rolling off of him, the magical manifestation of his rage. "I wouldn't fire that if I were you," he said. Elisa looked down at her firearm. Embedded deep into the barrel of her gun was one of his snake bladed knives. A tan hand grabbed his shoulder, turning him around to punch him in the face.

"Thank ye, lass," Hudson said as Nick staggered back, "But I'll be taking it from here." As he stepped past her, Elisa noticed the bloody patch of hair on the back of his head. Nick spit blood from his mouth, his eyes blazing anew. "Why are you doing this, lad?" Hudson asked as the two circled each other. The magician's only answer was to raise a flaming hand. He released a continuous wave of fire, engulfing the elder in flame. Hudson folded his wings in front of his face, shielding against the assault. But even with his natural resistance and endurance, he wouldn't be able to stand up to this for long. The emerald flames blocked his vision on all sides, so he wasn't sure how wide they extended to either side. If he were to roll away, it would completely compromise his defense, so he couldn't risk it.

Nick sneered as he continued his plume of fire. This didn't bring him any joy, seeking out revenge; in fact, the only thing he felt was rage, burning deep within his heart. But that wasn't right, he had never been angry before. His brow contorted in confusion as streaks of red appeared in his fire. Elisa dropped her ruined pistol, and knelt down to pull her secondary weapon from her ankle holster. A short-barreled revolver appeared in her hand as she stood up. This time she didn't hesitate, the veteran police officer aimed and fired. As the gunshot echoed across the room, there came a second sound, not nearly as loud. The sorcerer lay upon the floor, unmoving. With the flames stopped, Hudson lowered his wings, burns making their movement painful. "Lad."

But the mage stirred, slowly lifting himself up off the floor. His face turned, teeth bared in anger. The whole left side of his face was covered in blood from the deep gash that ran from just below his eye the entire way to his ear. Elisa's aim had not been off, it had been the boy's enhanced reflexes that had saved his life. As the bullet had fired, he had turned as fast has he was able, following the missile's flight, instead of letting it go through him. It had very nearly killed him, but he would not allow himself to die before he'd had his revenge. Instantly, he stood before her again, another dagger in hand. With deft movements, he sent the serrated combat knife through her revolver, cutting it clean in half. "Stop interfering!" he roared, "Just stay out of the wa-" His exclamation was cut off by Goliath's roar as the large gargoyle charged in and slammed him into the wall.

Leaning heavily upon the stone wall for support, Nick lifted himself to his feet. All around him, the downed gargoyles did the same. They were scattered around the room, but they had him pinned all the same. The only difference was that this time, he had nowhere to jump. Bronx, Brooklyn, Broadway, Goliath, and Hudson, all of them closing in. Latin words were forced past his split lips as a purple mist formed about his right hand. Goliath noticed his spell casting, and roared once more as he charged in. At the same moment, Nick released his spell, and it was louder. He grabbed his throat, the purple energy flowing into his vocal cords, and screamed. The shout shook the air, and drove each gargoyle to cover their ears. Known as the banshee's wail, it was a powerful spell that he had created after leaving his master's tutelage. It attacked through the victim's hearing, causing intense pain, so physical constitution was not as important as a high pain threshold. The more of the sound that was blocked out, though, the less effective the spell was. So when Goliath made the choice to help cover Elisa's ears instead of his own, he was exposed to the full force of the magic.

Goliath's eyes rolled up into his head as his legs lost all strength. He was no stranger to pain, but this was something entirely different. Though the shout only lasted several seconds, by the time it was over, Goliath was on the floor.

As the last waves of sound rebounded around the room, a dozen circles began to form on the floor. The gargoyles regarded them with scrutiny, looking from the glowing circles to the angry magician. Nick recognized them as summoning circles, but they were not his doing. And as he watched what formed inside of them, he was quickly able to guess who's they were. Within the few seconds that it took for the spell to complete, twelve of the Steel Clan had appeared in the room, their metal armor shining green.

Taking advantage of the sudden distraction, Nick vanished. He reappeared, landing a drop kick right to Hudson's chest. The blow sent the elder sprawling, right to the feet of one of the androids. It stood over him, unfeeling, as a laser blaster unfolded from its wrist. A red glow filled Hudson's vision as the laser charged up. One tan hand went for his sword, but in his old age, he wondered if he'd be fast enough to block. But just as the charging hum reached its pinnacle, the glow was cut short. Protruding through the robot's 'heart' was a ghostly blade surrounded by a silver aura. Wrenching the blade out, Nick teleported directly in front of the machine, staring into its fading red eyes. "Listen to me, Xanatos! You tell your damn robots that this one is mine!" he shouted, knowing that the builder was listening on the other side. Then Nick turned to Hudson as the elder regained his feet, reforming his translucent sword. It was not a blade he held in his hand, instead, it followed his straightened fingers, coming directly from the wrist.

"Draw your blade," Nick growled as the robot collapsed behind him. He pointed the ghost blade at the object of his anger, waiting for the fight to begin.

"I'm only going to ask one more time, lad," Hudson said, pulling his curved sword from his belt, "What are you doing?"

"Dealing justice," the sorcerer replied before charging forward. With a savage yell, he stabbed forth; spraying sparks as the two blades clashed. "You killed my father," Nick hissed through his teeth, "I'm just returning the favor." He pushed Hudson's blade up, forming one of his daggers in the opposite hand. But the elder had been in more than a few battles, and seen more than a few tricks like this one. Hudson grabbed the boy's fist as he tried to raise the knife, essentially neutralizing the threat. With his own sword, he turned the ghost blade aside, opening him up for the foot he placed right in his ribs. As the mage staggered back, he thrust forward with the sword, channeling him magic into it. The magic blade lengthened, taking Hudson by surprise. He was barley able to parry the spear, turning it aside as it ground against his steel.

"Think about what you're saying," Hudson said as Nick's sword retracted. "I haven't killed anyone on this island, and the times of Castle Wyvern were too long ago." The elder had to shout over the sounds of battle, roars and laser fire as the three remaining gargoyles held the Steel Clan at bay.

"Think back," Nick said, "Try to remember all of the faces of all of the men you've killed. One should stand out." The mage's eyes narrowed as the silver aura around his sword flared. "Then again, I don't know how often people fell through portals back in the nine-hundreds." The simple retelling made his voice crack, so he covered it with another assault. More sparks flew as the two traded blows. "I understand that he ruined your night with your wife, but I don't think that warranted killing him." A spark of realization flashed through Hudson's old eyes. So Nick pressed on, repeating the event that gave him such rage, and such power. "I believe you accused him of sorcery before you ran him through with the same sword you hold now!" The ring of metal filled their ears as the two swords clashed.

Hudson held his own against the boy's arcane sword, but he wasn't trying all that hard. Although it was a magical blade, Nick had very little skill in using it. What hurt him more were his words. It was true; he had killed many people in his years at Castle Wyvern, but he never thought that any of them would come back to haunt him. Thoughts like that were not needed in a warrior's mind. After hearing the description, he remembered the attack. He had been with his mate, sharing a few moments of peace. That was when the rift had opened right between them. Whether it had been the brashness of his youth, or the desire to protect his mate, he had attacked without thought. He had indeed killed that man, and maybe it had been wrong, but he wasn't about to let it justify this attack on his home.

Their blades locked again, forcing the fight into a test of strength. Between a boy and a gargoyle, it was no contest. Nick was pushed back several feet before he stepped to the side to try and displace the weight. The two switched places, dancing around each other as they both tried to take the advantage. Finally, Hudson managed to parry his sword and place a fist square in the mage's jaw. But as the sorcerer staggered back, another threat entered his vision. Elisa stood beside Goliath, now returning to conscious, his arm slung over her shoulder for support. The damn mage had already destroyed Elisa's only weapons, leaving her completely defenseless. Iron claws rose to strike, she wasn't even worth their lasers. "Lass!" Hudson called out, knowing that he had no hope of crossing the distance in time. But there was another who was able to get there in an instant.

As the claws descended, both were loped off by a single swing of the sword. In the same movement, the ghostly blade bit into their steel hide, bisecting them at the waist. As he completed his rotation, Nick caught Elisa's eye. In that instant, she saw his old eyes, flashing with interest instead of rage. But it was only for an instant, and then the cold fire filled him once more. Without losing momentum, he teleported above his target, stabbing down with his translucent weapon. The ghost blade was parried to the side, sliding up to his fingers into the stone floor. Seeing an opening with his opponent's weapon lodged in the ground, Hudson stepped in, his hilt high above his head. But as he brought the blunt end down, Nick slashed out with the spectral sword, cutting through the rock as if it were air. Hudson jumped back as quickly as he could, just missing the end of the blade. White hairs floated to the floor.

"Nice, isn't it?" Nick asked as Hudson caught his breath. He was too old for this. "In case you haven't guessed, this sword is not quite normal." The magician pulled his sleeve up, revealing all of the watches on his left arm. It was the one normally on his wrist that was gone, replaced by a bronze bracer. "It's a ghost, a magical copy, of the Sword of Alexander. That's right, the conqueror from the history books. His sword was doused in the blood of thousands. This copy holds the power of its wielder. And it can cut through steel." Nick added.

"It's not how good the sword is, lad," Hudson replied, raising his own weapon, "The only thing that matters is how you wield it."

Nick's eyes narrowed again, "Show me." Again they clashed, but this time, Hudson put his mind and muscle behind it. The first hit made Nick's arm go numb from the shock, and the second nearly drove him to his knees. Hudson slid his blade along the boy's weapon, blinding him with the sparks. A well-placed kick threw the mage onto his back, and before he could teleport back to his feet, a taloned foot pinned him to the floor.

"You ready to stop this, lad?" Hudson asked, placing cold steel against the boy's neck. The sorcerer's only reply was in Latin. Had it been more than one word, Hudson would have been able to stop him, but as it was, Nick turned into smoke. With a flap of his wings, Hudson scattered the gas, causing him to reform a good ten feet away. Using the extra time it took for Nick to pull himself together, the gargoyle charged in, swinging with his left as he brought the sword up with his right. As he had predicted, the lad saw his high fist first, and raised his ghostly blade to block it. That was when Hudson brought his sword up, catching him in the arm. He dragged the edge along the boy's forearm, cutting through the band of every watch, and through the side of the bronze bracer.

Nick let out a yelp of pain as the sharp blade cut into his arm. His watches fell off as clutched at the wound, each clattering to the ground. The ghostly blade flickered and died as the bracer turned to dust, mixing with the blood that stained his sleeve. Other than his cry, the room was silent. Machine parts littered the floor as the gargoyles stood, heaving over their kills. Four pairs of glowing eyes settled on the wounded mage, who took a step back as he clutched at his arm.

"I'm sorry I killed your dad," Hudson said as he stepped forward, Bronx, Broadway, and Brooklyn behind him. "But you've attacked our home and betrayed our trust. We don't do well with people who try to kill us."

"No," Nick replied, as much to himself as to them, "I'm the good guy here! You're nothing but soulless monsters!" As he spoke, his voice rose, reflecting his growing anger. His eyes met theirs, and they noticed one thing. Just as their eyes shone with a white glow, his were now glowing red, similar to a female gargoyle's, but with one difference. Magical energy leaked from the corner of his eyes, giving the appearance that they were on fire. The same red energy had appeared around him, rolling off of his body like water dripping to the ceiling. As the power took hold of him, he stood up straighter, ignoring his many wounds.

The gargoyles circled him, ready for another attack. Hudson did his best to watch the boy's eyes, but they were empty, devoid of any thought or feeling. Glances shot between the three gargoyles that circled him, communicating and waiting for the time to strike. Brooklyn met the eyes of Broadway and Bronx, the slightest nod signaling to attack. As one, the three leaped at him from every direction, their roars shaking the stone. His eyes still locked with Hudson's, Nick waved his hands in a circle around him, a wave of force flowing out from his person. Each gargoyle stopped in mid air as if they had hit a wall. After they fell to the ground, Bronx was the first one to recover. He pawed the air in front of him, scratching at the force field that separated them from both Hudson and Nick.

The area Hudson found himself trapped in was a good ten feet in every direction. But the company that he was trapped with could not have been worse. Crimson energy continued to roll off of Nick's form, his eyes staring blankly into the gargoyle's own. "It's no longer a matter of if," Nick said, his voice overlapped a dozen times, "It is simply a matter of how you will die."

"I'm not giving you the chance, lad," Hudson growled, raising his sword high. He leaped forward, bringing the weapon down. To his utter surprise, the sorcerer caught the blade in his hand, holding it fast. The red energy flowed around it, rolling down onto the gargoyle's hand. It burned like nothing he'd ever felt before. But the pain was nothing next to what he felt happening to his flesh. The familiar sound of stone on stone sounded in his ears as his hand turned to stone, the transformation running down his arm.

"I could turn you to stone, and smash you while you watch. No, that wouldn't be fitting," Nick said, his multiple voices empty. He threw the several hundred pound gargoyle back as if it were nothing. Hudson managed to keep his feet as he landed, and even let out a small sigh of relief as his arm reverted back to flesh and blood. Nick looked down at his hand, sliced open from when he had grabbed Hudson's sword several nights back. "That's it. Simple, and ironic at the same time. It's perfect," the mage said coldly. He took a single step forward, causing Hudson to raise his blade in defense. Fists pounded on the field from the outside, muffled shouts coming through, giving him suggestions on how to defend himself. One knife flew from his hand, easily deflected by a sword stroke. It was followed by another, and another, each blocked in turn. Hudson's eyes narrowed, this was too light of an attack. What was the sorcerer doing? The numbers kept increasing, two knives added each time. Blocking them became more difficult, but still within Hudson's skills.

Then it came, the final attack. With a wave of his hand, dozens upon dozens of different daggers spawned from Nick's aura, all flying forth in the same instance. Hudson let out a roar of pain as the knives cut into him, pinning him to the side of the dome through the membranes of his wings. His sword clattered to the ground. Nick walked forward slowly, ignoring the shouts coming through the force field. He bent down and picked up the discarded blade, holding it in a white knuckled grip. Crimson blood seeped from the many cuts in the gargoyle's wings, though none had pierced his body, the mage had made sure of that. His hand reached out, the red aura peeling back so he could grab the neck of Hudson's shirt. The pounding increased along with the shouting from outside. Their eyes locked, a silent message trading between them. Without a second thought, Nick ran the blade into Hudson's stomach.

Hudson did not cry out, but gasped breathlessly, blood dripping from his mouth. From outside the dome, a lone howl broke the night. Nick pulled the blade out before stepping back. The aura around him dissolved into the air, as did the knives holding the wounded gargoyle up. Without the support, Hudson slumped to the floor, leaving two streaks of blood against the force field wall. His eyes clear, Nick looked down on the fallen monster. The sword remained in his grip, dripping blood. Though the pounding had ceased, one hand remained pressed against the dome.

Broadway stared through the translucent material of the field, his mouth gaping in disbelief. It seemed like blasphemy that anybody could defeat Hudson. To his utter surprise, Nick turned his head and looked directly at him. The look in his eyes was difficult to place, but Broadway's addled mind took it as a challenge. His eyes lit up, both fists slamming against the dome in rage. But it didn't faze him; Nick just kept his eyes locked with Broadway's until the moment he vanished. As soon as he was gone, the force field dissipated, and the clan gathered around their fallen comrade.

Hudson was still conscious, his teeth bared in pain. His hand was pressed against the wound in his stomach to try and slow the bleeding, but there was just so much blood. "It's okay, lads," he groaned, "I just need to make it to sunrise." But the simple act of speaking seemed to cause him more pain, hand he was forced to stop.

"Listen, Hudson, we're going to get you cleaned up, everything's going to be fine. But we have to move you, and it's going to hurt," Elisa explained, her hand on his arm. The elder nodded, and Elisa motioned to Broadway. As the biggest among them, he was the only one that could move the large gargoyle without hurting him. So he lifted Hudson as gently as he could, and deposited him where he was told. Just as she had predicted, the movement had caused a great deal of pain. "I'm going to try to stop the bleeding," she said, her voice cracking, "I'm not a doctor, but I've taken more than my share of first aid classes. Besides, it's not like we have a better option." Hudson gave her a pat on the arm and a pained smile before she began.

Broadway couldn't watch. He turned around and leaned on the wall, racking his brain. There had to be something that he could do, standing around like this made him feel like crap. Though he didn't know it, his eyes were blazing white. "Calm down, buddy," Brooklyn said, putting a hand on his rookery brother's shoulder, "We'll get him. But right now, there's nothing we can do but wait."

"No," Broadway growled, punching the stone wall, sending cracks along the mortar. He turned and pushed his way past Brooklyn. His stomped from the room, returning seconds later with several yellowed pages in his grasp. They were the pages torn from the Gremorum Nacimorum. Broadway shuffled through them with none of the gentleness he had shown earlier. If he could find one spell in here that could do anything to help…but it was hopeless, he couldn't even read the words, much less cast the spells. He was so caught up in his desperate search, that he didn't even notice when his clawed foot stepped in a puddle of blood. Instantly, the letters on the forward most page lit up a brilliant purple, illuminating Broadway's face. All around the room, cracks of the same purple light appeared, all the same except for one. The point where Nick had left their home only moments ago shone brighter as it began to widen. They could see through the rift now, and a familiar sight looked back at them. On the other side of the portal stood Castle Wyvern, their old home.

Goliath recognized the look in Broadway's eyes. "Do not go!" the leader commanded, a talon pointed his way. Broadway looked back, his eyes glowing, before he leaped through the gateway. As soon as he was through, the portal snapped shut, and the spell ended. The cold night air greeted him as he stood atop the roof of Castle Wyvern. Another thing greeted him as well, a voice.

"Didn't think I'd be seeing you again so soon," Nick said. Broadway spun around, meeting his gaze. Both pairs of eyes blazed. With a roar, Broadway hurled himself at the mage, the pages of the Gremorum scattering everywhere. Nick still gripped Hudson's sword, and now he brought it to bear. Warm steel bit into the skin of Broadway's arm as he came in, but he pushed past the pain and tackled the magician. Before they hit the ground, Nick uttered the same Latin word he'd said twice tonight. The gargoyle slammed into the floor by himself, black smoke swirling around him. Rolling to his feet, Broadway dug his fingers and toes into the stone, using the extra grip to launch again. Instead of leaping, he charged, keeping an eye on the reforming sorcerer. Nick brought the blade down as Broadway closed in, but he was the slower one for once.

Broadway grabbed Nick's wrist, slamming his hand into the wall. Bones ground together, and the sword fell from his grasp. Before he could get a single word out, Broadway's other hand clamped over his mouth, pressing his head against the wall as well. "You said the Hudson killed your father," Broadway growled, "So you tried to kill him. Now it's my father that's dying because of you. Guess what I'm going to do." Holding the boy against the stones, he let go of the mage's wrist and pulled back his fist. Nick grabbed at the hand over his mouth, but it was like trying to bend iron. His left hand brushed against the fresh cut on Broadway's forearm, and their blood mixed.

Nick's eyes lit up with a white light as every muscle in his body tensed. The gargoyle's blood raced through his veins, mixing with his own, to powerful effect. Broadway hesitated at the sudden change, and was denied his revenge because of it. With a force that he could never posses, Nick's hand shot out, striking Broadway in the chest. The blow sent Broadway reeling; he couldn't remember being hit that hard since the last time he'd sparred against Goliath. Denied his support, Nick collapsed to the ground, falling to his hands and knees. His head hung and his breath caught in his throat.

"Oh God," Nick choked, his eyes stinging with tears, "What have I done?"

* * *

Hello everybody, this is your author speaking. I'm just wondering if everybody's enjoying the story, because so far, I only have two reviews, and they're both from the same person. If you readers arn't happy with the story, please tell me why. Either way, I'd really like some imput, please.


	10. Chapter 10: Justice

Chapter Ten: Justice

"What have I done?" Nick repeated in agony. He slammed his hand against the floor in frustration, cracking the mortar with the fading vestiges of gargoyle strength. Anger rose in his heart, but he smashed it down; rage had caused nothing but pain. Nick slowly stood up, and no sooner had he taken his feet, than a blue fist crashed into his face. Broadway pulled his fist back for another strike, but by the time his hand made it there, it had nothing to hit. The sorcerer reappeared five feet away, checking to see if his jaw was broken. When Broadway charged at him, he quickly decided that it wasn't and called out, "Stop!" Instead of slugging him in the face again, Broadway just grabbed him by his shirt and lifted him off of the ground. The look in his glowing eyes said that he had better have an amazing explanation.

"Listen, I deserve all of the horrible things that you want to do to me right now, I really do. Wait, wait, wait. But right now we both want the same thing. Wouldn't you rather take out the head, instead of just the hand?" he pointed to himself at the last word.

"What are you talking about?" Broadway growled right in his face, giving him a good shake.

"Solomon, my old master, he's the one that told me about what Hudson did. Wait, don't! But the thing is, he's been hired by Xanatos to take you guys out. He used me to start the job. All I'm asking is that you help me atone for what I've done."

"It's going to take more than this to make up for it," Broadway growled, dropping him from a good three feet.

"I know, but you gotta admit, it's a pretty good start," Nick replied, smoothing out his shirt. His did it to stop his hands from shaking. The gargoyle bent over and picked up the discarded sword, sliding it into his belt. "We're going in hot, you ready?" Broadway nodded, and before he could blink, his entire environment shifted around him. It was almost enough to make him sick, but by the time they landed, his stomach was settled. They were now in the mage's study, with all of its jars, beakers, and books. Leaning over his spell book was Solomon, acting as if he hadn't even seen them. But he knew they were there, and they knew that he knew. Broadway took a look around him, and quickly spotted something very out of place in the environment. Not that he really knew what to expect in a magician's study, the Magus had never allowed anyone in his rooms, but he suspected that the cage in the corner of the room shouldn't be there. What really tipped him off though was the fact that creature inside of the cage was his rookery brother, Lexington. "So how's this going to go?" Nick asked, his eye scanning for magical threats while Broadway's scanned for physical ones.

"What did I teach you, my boy? Always let the enemy act first, it allows you to predict what they're going to do," the master tutted.

"Yeah, and I remember another rule of yours. You can't make friends though mind control," Nick replied, running through his list of spells in his head. Broadway shot him a look, nodding ever so slightly to the cage in the corner of the room. He would have gone already, but he understood the tension of the situation, and he didn't want to aggravate it any further.

"I didn't mind control you, my boy. The only thing I did was keep you angry. What you did while in your rage, you cannot blame on me," Solomon said offhandedly, flipping a page in his spell book.

Nick nodded to Broadway's glance, his hand flexing. "Watch me!" the sorcerer shouted, launching lightning from his palm. As he did, Broadway leaped over the counters and bounded across the room. Before his lighting reached its destination, Solomon had activated the amulet that hung around his neck. A personal energy field erected around him, stopping the bolt cold. The field was tuned into the magical signatures of several different magicians, and Nick just happened to be one of those people. It essentially made him immune to the sorcerer's magic.

"Now, now, we can't have that. I'm just going to have to punish you," Solomon said with a yellow-toothed smile. He flipped the page of his spell book one more time, then began to cast. Nick listened to the words that flowed from his mouth, trying to get a sense of what the magic would manifest as. He heard something about leaves, and cutting. That didn't sound too good to him. The many colored leaves of autumn appeared around him, swirling around as if caught in a whirlwind. A single leaf brushed against his arm, slicing right through his sleeve and skin. Then another cut into him, on his cheek, just below the gash from Elisa's bullet. More and more leaves were manifesting around him, which meant that he had to find some way to defend himself.

From the corner of his vision, he saw Broadway trying to find some way past the electric bars of Lexington's cage. If he were a gargoyle, he wouldn't even have to worry about these pathetic little leaves. That's an idea, Nick thought, kneeling to the ground as two more leaves cut into his leg. Two arcane words left his lips, stone and armor. The stone floor leaped up around him, settling around his body. With his stone armor in place, the leaves were free to have at him, since they had no hope of cutting him. But as he heard the magic wind die down, he realized the great folly of his spell. Now that he was incased in stone, he couldn't move to break himself out. Nick cursed himself; he had to think things through. "Well now, my boy, what are we going to do with you now?"

* * *

"If you've got any ideas, I'd love to hear them," Broadway said to Lex as he tried to break his rookery brother from his cage.

"I haven't really had time to examine this thing, I was too worried that he'd turn me to stone again!" Lexington rebuked. The cage was designed like the one Hudson had described to them from when Xanatos had captured him. Its bars were made of solid light, electrically charged and as hot as a laser. Lexington suspected that all of the wiring was in the top section, but there was an inch of steel between him and it. Besides, if he did escape from this cage, he was trapped in a room with a powerful magus. He'd rather stay in the cage. "What happened?" Lexington asked as Broadway fiddled with the panel on top of his cage, "Why do you have Hudson's sword?"

Broadway's hand fell on the hilt of the sword, "We're not sure what happened here, but Nick went back to the clock tower and attacked us. Attacked Hudson more specifically. He kept us back with his magic, and-and," Broadway had to stop for a second, taking his mind off of it by playing with one of the wires. With a talon, he severed the wire, causing the cage's bars to fade away. "He stabbed Hudson in the gut. Elisa's working on him, but…I don't know."

"I didn't see too well, but Solomon cast a spell on him. Do you think that he's controlling Nick?" Lexington asked as he stepped out of his coop.

"No!" Broadway growled without hesitation. "He admitted that he's guilty, and he's going to pay for what he's done. So are Xanatos and this Solomon." As his rant wound to a close, a shimmer appeared right next to him, quickly forming into a translucent image of Nick.

"Hey, guys," the image said, its voice slightly hollow, "I kinda got myself in a pickle here, so if I could get some help, that would be great." The image vanished with a shimmer just as it had appeared. Both gargoyles looked over to see the sorcerer entrapped in stone. Solomon stood over his frozen form, in the midst of another casting.

"You think we can just smash through him?" Lexington asked as they bounded across the room.

"If not, oh well," Broadway replied, his eyes filling with white fire. He leapt from one of the counters, landing right on Nick. The stone shattered under his weight as if it were glass. At the same time, Lexington flew at Solomon, but he never made it. Solomon called out the last words of his spell, turning it upon Lexington instead of Nick. A spectral hammer manifested out of thin air, striking the flying gargoyle right in the chest. With all of the wind knocked out of him, Lex was thrown clear across the room. Ironically enough, he landed right back in the broken cage.

It seemed that the hammer was a one-time weapon, for it faded as soon as it was used. Solomon flipped to the next page and began casting. Upon hearing the words, Nick raised his hand from his place on the floor and issued a torrent of red flames. But just as before, the amulet protected him.

"It's really no use, my boy," Solomon said with a wave of his hand, "Your magic is useless against me. I know you're smarter than this, so just give up. I'll even spare your life out of the memory of your apprenticeship."

"And the gargoyles?" Nick asked, taking his feet. He was acutely aware of Broadway's eyes boring into his back.

"I'll have to kill them. Xanatos hired me to do a job for him, and I always finish what I've started," Solomon replied. He turned his attention back to his spell book, restarting the spell from the beginning. As the energies condensed in front of the magus, Nick couldn't help but feel completely helpless. His magic didn't work, and that was his one and only weapon. Asking him to fight without his magic was like asked the gargoyles to fight without their hands. Solomon spoke the last words and sent a large ball of rolling fire after them. Nick raised his hands and sped through the words of his ice spell. Frost sprayed from his palms, slowly dousing the flaming sphere. Like the same side of a magnet, the two opposite elements pushed away from each other, driving him back. He increased the intensity of his frost spell, increasing the force that pushed him back. By the time the flames were extinguished, Nick had been driven halfway across the room. Broadway grabbed him by the shoulders, using himself as a brace to prevent being pushed back further.

Nick looked at the work of his spell after the fire had been put out. A large section of the room was covered in ice, but standing in the middle of it all was Solomon, completely untouched. "This is hopeless," Nick said, just loud enough for Broadway to hear. The gargoyle's grip on his shoulders tightened till it was almost painful.

"Don't give up on me now," Broadway said, his grip becoming even tighter. "Let's play catch the magician." Nick nodded, and Broadway let go of his shoulders. Immediately, the sorcerer vanished, reappearing right in front of Solomon. Broadway's words had reminded him of something. Even though his magic was completely useless, he could still fight like a normal person. He grabbed the spell book and threw it to the floor like a bully picking on a nerdy kid. Solomon's hand immediately went for the amulet, most likely to prevent him from ripping it off, but when it came to magic, it was better not to take chances. Nick jumped back, out of the range of the magic dampening field, and teleported again. This time, he reappeared in the air, and came down with a drop kick to his chest. It was the exact same move he had used on Hudson barely a half hour before, only now, his head was clear enough to use it on someone who deserved it. The kick threw Solomon back, right into Broadway's waiting arms.

Broadway grabbed the magus in a bear hug, crushing the air from his lungs. He would just hold on long enough for him to lose consciousness. Enough people had been hurt today. He looked over at Nick and gave him a 'job well done' nod. But Nick's response was not what he expected. Instead of a thumbs up or a smile, it looked like he was shouting, "Look out!" Blinding pain shot up his back, causing him to drop the magician. He dropped to his hands and knees as his head swam from the pain. Metal feet marched past him, and Broadway knew the red paint job well.

"I bought you a gift, Solomon," Xanatos said, holding out a roll of yellowed papers in his metal hand. His voice sounded hollow inside of his metal helmet. The winded magus took the papers greedily, shuffling though them as his own spell book lay discarded on the floor. Sure enough, they were the same pages that Nick and Broadway had left scattered across the rooftop.

"Oh, yes, these spells are amazing!" Solomon exclaimed, his voice filled with childlike glee. "Now that I have the Gremorum, killing these pests will be pitifully easy."

* * *

Elisa sat by Hudson's side, right across from Bronx. The poor beast hadn't left his side the entire time. While she had managed to stop the bleeding with some tight bandages and more than a little reliance on the gargoyle's own constitution, she still wasn't sure about how he was doing. Hudson had passed out not long after she had worked on him, most likely from too much blood loss. It didn't look good. Goliath came and took a knee beside her, "How is he doing?"

"I don't know, Goliath, I just don't know," she held the unconscious gargoyle's hand. It wasn't as warm as it should have been. Now that she thought back, Hudson had said that he was cold. But gargoyles didn't get cold. "I wasn't trained for any of this, no one on earth was. The Captain has to be looking for me, but I have a good excuse. It just happens to be one that I can't tell her. But it will all be worth it if everything goes okay. You hear me, I don't care how old you are, you're sticking around a little longer." She squeezed his stone cold hand. A sudden warmth enveloped her as Goliath's wing wrapped around her shoulders.

"I hope so, lass," Hudson croaked, his hand tightening back. Bronx let out a whine, nudging his other hand. It responded weakly, rubbing the beast's snout. "Is that you, Goliath?" He tried to lift his head to look, but didn't have the strength.

"Yes, we are all here, except for Lexington and Broadway," Goliath replied.

"Where is my son?" Hudson asked, reaching up and grabbing Goliath's arm.

"We are all your sons, old friend," Goliath said. As the oldest among them, Hudson was regarded as the father of the clan. But he shook his head as hard as he could manage.

"Don't feed me that, lad," Hudson replied, his grip tightening on Goliath's arm. "Where is my son? Where is Broadway?"

* * *

Xanatos slammed Broadway against the wall, holding him there by his neck. Blood trickled down from his eyebrow, a nice scratch from when that metal hand had cracked his head against the floor a minute ago. The other steel fist came up, but instead of smashing into his face, a compact laser blaster unfolded from the wrist. Broadway tried to wave it away, but Xanatos just knocked his hand away and aimed again. He was still weak from being shot in the back, so there was not much that he could do. Thankfully, he was not alone. Lexington dropped onto Xanatos' back, ripping the laser right off of his wrist. Using the sudden distraction, Broadway slammed his fist into the elbow of the arm that held him, bending it the wrong way with the force of a sledgehammer.

Xanatos' cry of pain made his helmet ring. Thankfully, his arm was not broken. The suit was designed to take most of the damage of any blow, so it bent and buckled before his bones snapped. With the press of a button, the steel arm would simply slide off, giving him back free range of movement. But before he was able to shake the twisted piece of metal off, Lexington was on him again. The small gargoyle dug his claws into his helmet and tore the piece off. Without its protection, Broadway was free to slug him right in the face.

"You know," Lexington said, holding the torn helmet at arm's length, "I've never quite understood your Goliath envy. This thing looks just like him. Do you think that this suit makes you as good as him?"

"It doesn't," Broadway growled, cracking his knuckles, "You and your robots will never be as good as us. 'Cause we just keep getting better."

Xanatos wiped the blood from his lip with a smile. "So do I." His smile split his face as he reached down and pressed a button on the wrist of his remaining gauntlet. Both gargoyles heard a single beep before a crippling pain brought them to their knees. Electricity snaked around their bodies, originating from a device planted on each of them during the fight. Only the size of a quarter, the small electrodes were located on the back of Broadway's left shoulder and the inside of Lexington's right leg. The pain was intense, and it paralyzed their muscles, leaving them helpless. With that annoyance taken care of, Xanatos turned to help his employee finish up the remaining piece of trash.

Nick was teleporting around the room like mad; doing everything he could to dodge his master's new favorite attack. Taken from one of the pages of the Gremorum, it released a black ray that reduced anything it touched to ash. If he so much as brushed that beam, there was little doubt that it would kill him. He vanished again, narrowly dodging the black beam. It struck the wall behind him, carving yet another deep grove in the stone. The most Nick had managed in return had been a few lightning bolts, not that they had done any good. Reappearing on one of the counters, he ducked as another beam shot over his head.

"Stand still!" Solomon shouted in frustration. It was terribly irritating, being given these new toys, yet being unable to use them. No matter, he would just switch to a different spell. He shuffled to another page, his face splitting with another yellow-toothed smile. "Mr. Xanatos, you may want to leave the room. It is about to get very dangerous in here."

"If that's your professional opinion," Xanatos said with a grin. Without so much as a glance back, Xanatos strolled from the room as if he wore a business suit instead of robotic armor. During the exchange, Nick had popped over to the pained gargoyles, removing the electrodes with one of his summoned daggers. Their muscles still twitched from the shock, but they accepted his arm as they tried to get back on their feet. But they never made it.

Nick's heart skipped a beat, and he could tell that the same was true for the others. All of the strength left his body, and he collapsed to his hands and knees. On either side of him, the gargoyles were on the ground, barely holding on to consciousness. Broadway was clutching his chest in agony. Again it happened, as if someone had reached inside of him and squezzed his heart. Darkness crept in from the edges of his vision. He looked up, trying to find the source of their condition, though he figured he knew already. Sure enough, Solomon was standing only five feet away, his hand raised in their direction, reading off of one of the pages. Another wave washed over them, and from what he felt, Nick figured out what was happening to them.

With every wave, every skip of the heart, the bond between their body and soul was further dissolved. It was necromancy of the darkest kind, and the fact that Solomon would even resort to it was simply vile. They had already taken three hits; the gargoyles might be able to take another three or four, but he wouldn't survive another two. Barely hanging in there, Nick started chanting in an arcane tongue. Their lives hinged on an idea that he hoped to god was right.

A fourth wave of dark magic washed over them, causing another wave of agony. Nick nearly lost the spell, but he gritted his teeth and kept going. Purple mist formed around his hand, telling both of the gargoyles exactly what was coming. Solomon looked down at him, saw the magic, and just smiled wider. The boy's magic could not affect him, all thanks to the amulet. Only another second, and his former apprentice's life would be over. Nick took a deep breath, because he wasn't sure if it would be his last breath ever. Placing his glowing hand against his throat, the boy screamed. Sound rippled through the room, tearing into the opposing magician. Broadway and Lexington pressed their hands against their ears as hard as they could. It was still painful, but not as bad as the pain of their spirits being torn from their bodies.

Solomon dropped his precious pages as his mind was wracked with pain. He covered his ears, trying to block out the sound. It lessened the effects, but couldn't stop it completely. Staggering back, the master magician tried to figure out why the boy's magic was suddenly working against him. The only thing he could think of, was that this was a new spell, one Nick had made after he had left Solomon's watchful gaze. That was exactly right. All of Nick's pain, all of his anger was in this scream, and he let it go on until his lungs were empty. Panting for breath, he slowly stood up, his eyes flashing.

Solomon was hanging on the counter, strewn with shards of broken glass. With a shaking hand, the magus reached across the counter, his hand settling on a worked wood box. Grabbing it with desperate fingers, Solomon allowed himself to collapse on his behind. "You know, my boy, you were only really good for one thing," Solomon said with a weak smile. He flipped the box open, revealing a velvet-lined interior with five syringes of red liquid nestled inside. "When I discovered what your blood could do, I realized that I had to have as much as I could." He pulled one syringe out and shut the box. Without any of his usual poise, he pulled up his sleeve and jabbed the needle into his exposed vein. Gasping in ecstasy, he pushed the blood into his own body. "Your blood enhances my own magical abilities by a factor of ten. The feeling, so much power! Is this the way you feel all the time? If its is, oh, how I envy you!" He stood up, placing the box back on the counter. His hand snapped up, and without a word, he pushed Nick against the wall. Nick struggled against the invisible hand as it lifted him off of the ground, pushing him against the wall. He tried to teleport, but just as if someone real was touching him, he couldn't get away.

"Now, now, it appears that I'm out numbered again. I really had counted on that spell to take care of you all, but I should have known not to place all of my eggs in one basket. No matter, I can take care of these two just fine, but what to do with you?" His yellow teeth showed as he smiled. He bent over and picked up one of the discarded pages, never letting Nick out of his grasp. "You always used to say that you weren't afraid of anything. Let's find out what you truly fear, my boy." Solomon began chanting off of the page, applying his newly enhanced magic to the spell. The gargoyles tried to get up, but between the shock, the necromancy spell, and the shout, it was everything they could do to say conscious. A shadowy mass materialized in front of Solomon, growing as he chanted. Though it was little bigger than a man, it seemed to completely fill Nick's vision. As the spell reached its end, the shadow took shape, forming into the sorcerer's greatest fear.

Solomon let go of Nick, allowing the boy to slide to the floor. The look on his face was priceless, a mix of fear and disbelief. He sat was paralyzed; his eyes locked on what the shadows had created. To Broadway and Lexington, the only thing that stood before them was a nondescript shadow, vaguely shaped like a person, though bigger. Only Solomon and Nick, the caster and the victim, could see the shape that it had truly taken. "I'm not too happy with what you did to me, lad," Hudson said, his voice echoing in Nick's head. The gargoyle lifted his sword, shadows trailing behind it. "It's time to join your father."

* * *

It's your author again. I hope all 19 of my dedicated readers are enjoying the story. Thanks to _gargoyleslady _for the review, it'd be great if we could get a couple more. For anyone who's interested, I've got an idea for another fanfic. There's no OCs. First I'll be finishing this one, next chapter should be out in two weeks at max.


	11. Chapter 11: What it Means to Repent

Chapter Eleven: What it Means to Repent

"What is it?" Lexington asked as the two gargoyles began to recover.

"You should know," Nick, replied after a second, his eyes still locked on the shadowy mass, "You live with him." The shadow figure surged forward, though to Nick's eyes, it was Hudson that leaped at him. Flattening himself against the ground, he pushed against the wall, sliding under the monster's feet as it came down. Quickly standing up, Nick charged at Solomon, a combat knife appearing in his hand. But before he got there, his master had vanished. Now Nick understood how frustrating that was, teleporting away in the midst of combat. He heard a flap behind him, and turned just in time to stop the shadow from running him through.

"Don't run, lad," Hudson growled, making Nick's ears throb, "Face your judgment!" Their two blades locked, and Hudson drove him to his knees. Nick noticed small tendrils of shadow snaking from the gargoyle's curved blade onto his own. The smoky wisps ran down his short dagger and drifted onto the skin of his hand. They felt like burning ice, unbearably hot and cold at the same time. Fear suddenly took his heart, further weakening his body. Hudson grabbed him by the front of his shirt, lifting him off of the ground. More shadows ran off of his hand, flowing into the boy's skin. As they did, the fear in him grew larger. "It's time for my revenge!" the shade growled right in his face. With all the strength of a real gargoyle, Hudson hurled the sorcerer across the room. He collided with one of the counters, his back cracking against the edge.

Then the shade was on him again. Hudson lifted Nick once more, this time by the back of his shirt. Shadows flowed into him until the shade threw him across the room again. Nick collided with Broadway, sending them both against the wall. Mostly dazed, Nick lay atop Broadway's bulk, unable to move. Fear's icy grip worked its way across Nick's mind, slowing his thoughts and narrowing his vision. The shadow surged forward again as Hudson leaped after his prey. Though fear caused indecisiveness, in certain moments, it forced action. As the shade flew at him, Nick's mind suddenly cleared, and he reacted on his fear driven instincts. He grabbed the sword from Broadway's belt, and met Hudson's attack.

Though his blade was solid, and Hudson's was mere shadow, the force of the blow sent Nick reeling. All but thrown from his current position; the sorcerer was forced across the room by the shade's repeated attacks. With every strike, more shadow drifted into him, and his heart grew cold. But even as he was consumed by fear, the young sorcerer couldn't help but wonder as to the whereabouts of his former master. Solomon had left them when Nick had tried to attack him, and hadn't come back since. Then again, that was Solomon's style, allowing others to do his work for him. Another stroke of Hudson's sword sent him crashing against the wall. He ducked as the sword cut into the air where his neck had just been. Right now, he had more pressing matters.

"Get up," Lexington commanded, trying to lift Broadway to his feet. The larger gargoyle got to his feet with a little trouble, his head pounding.

"What hit me?" Broadway groaned, leaning against the wall. He remembered standing up, only to be hit full on by what felt like a body.

"Nick did. That thing he's fighting," Lexington pointed to where the boy was engaged with the shadowy mass, "It threw him at you. Broadway, I think that thing's Hudson. Or at least it is to Nick. Remember what the Magus said right before he cast it? 'Let's see what you truly fea-'" Lexington was suddenly cut off as Broadway grabbed him by the arm and tossed him away. "What was that for?" the small gargoyle protested, latching onto the wall to stop his momentum. He was forced to jump as Broadway's fist crashed into the wall where he clung.

"I can't stop myself!" Broadway shouted as his body charged after his rookery brother. Lexington jumped over him as he barreled through. Landing on his back, the little gargoyle managed to stay out of Broadway's reach. "Lex!" Broadway roared as his arms tried to grab Lexington off of his back, "It's the Magus, I'm sure of it! He's here somewhere. Find him!" The smaller gargoyle nodded, and leaped off of his back with acrobatic precision.

He landed on one of the counters; scattering jars as he scurried across. He had seen where Solomon had dropped his spell book, and sure enough, it was no longer there. But where was the magician himself? Lexington had to leap off the counter as Nick was sent sliding along it by the shadow's strength. Meanwhile, Broadway had closed the gap between them, and though his face seemed to apologize, his body had no hesitations as it tried to pound him into the ground. "Why don't you try a light spell, like in your story?" Lexington called out as Nick was thrown back across the counter top.

That wouldn't work for so many reasons, Nick thought. Normally, he would have said just that, but the fear prevented any snappy comebacks. This throw hadn't been nearly as hard as the other one, and he didn't quite clear the counter. Hudson leaped onto the counter, stomping his way to the boy. But Lexington was onto something. Even though Solomon was immune to his magic, this thing wasn't. As the shadow gargoyle bore down on him, he gathered air in his hand. Since he had more time than he'd had with Broadway, he was able to gather more air, and compress it into an orb the size of a basketball. Down the shadow's blade came, and up came the magic orb. When the both met, the orb released, and the two were blown apart. Nick was propelled off of the counter, while Hudson was thrown against the ceiling.

With the few seconds of time the spell bought him, Nick turned to Lexington. The nimble little scamp was jumping all around the room as Broadway tried to pound the crap out of him. But based on Broadway's face, that wasn't what he was trying to do. Nick recognized Solomon's spell immediately, but he'd never seen it so strong before. Usually, Solomon's body control spell made the victim move like a zombie, but his control over Broadway was absolute. It was his blood, and therefore, his fault. Frost suddenly covered Broadway's body, thickening until he could no longer move. "Thanks!" Broadway called out, unable to turn his head to look at Nick.

Lexington looked around as he perched on Broadway's frozen shoulder. Surely, Solomon would try something now that his puppet had been disabled. For several seconds, the only movements were Nick's struggles against that mass of shadows, surging around him once more. Then, Lex caught movement out of the corner of his eye. It was if the air had rippled, and that was where the magician was, he was sure of it. Though he'd never seen an invisibility spell in his life, he'd bet Broadway a week's worth of food that that was what one looked like. Leaping from his perch, Lex glided over and tackled that ripple in the air. The sudden collision broke Solomon's spell, making him visible to the world. Lexington tore the spell book from his hands and sent it spinning away. But Solomon was still under the effects of the sorcerer's blood, and he didn't need his spell book to defend himself.

Invisible hands grabbed at Lexington's arms, pulling him away from the magus and holding him against the ceiling. Solomon stood up and brushed off his suit, taking his good old time. "I never did get to cut you open like I said I would," Solomon said, a finger on his chin. With a small flourish, he pulled a dagger from inside his suit's jacket. Made of bone, the dagger was covered in what could only be dried blood. Several ancient symbols were carved into the stained blade. "Ancient Mayan," Solomon said, examining the blade. A great crash sounded as Nick was thrown through the wooden door. Yellow teeth showed as Solomon smiled, "They used it to sacrifice hundreds of people to their gods. I can cut you as much as I want, even into your heart, and the only thing you'll die from is blood loss. I've found it perfect for live dissections." Lexington was slowly lowered from the ceiling as two more invisible grips tightened around his feet, spreading him out. He rotated until he was horizontal, as if he were strapped to an operating table.

Slowly, what seemed like an eternity for the bound gargoyle, the knife descended, and finally bit into his skin. It was the beginning of a Y incision, but like the sadistic bastard he was, Solomon made the cut too shallow. Frozen in his icy cocoon, Broadway was forced to watch. His eyes were blazing with white fire, while Lexington's shook with fear. Cracks spidered across the ice a Broadway's muscles worked, shifting and flexing as he worked his way out. With a final burst of strength, he broke through and leaped forward. Solomon simply smiled and raised his empty hand. Broadway froze, hanging in midair. Though there was no ice, he couldn't move just the same. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize that you wanted to do it," the magus smirked.

To his horror, Broadway's hand began to move, reaching out to take the dagger. His fingers closed around the hilt as he remained suspended, and he brought the knife down, pressing it hard against his rookery brother's flesh. Crimson blood began to flow as his hand pushed harder and harder. The terror of the situation forced his thoughts to wonder, and a section of his mind went back up to the roof of the Castle. He held Nick against the wall, ready to pound his face in. That was when their blood had mixed. It had only been for a second, but enough had gotten though for the boy to acquire the strength of a gargoyle. Only then did he seem to realize what he had done. Solomon had said that he had been keeping Nick mad, and Lexington had said that he had seen the mage cast a spell of the sorcerer. Was it possible then, that it had been his blood that had broken the spell? If that was so, then maybe gargoyles had some resistance to magic, and he could resist the mage's hold over him.

Broadway's hand shook as his thoughts raced. Slowly, painfully, he began to lift the dagger away from Lexington's skin. Solomon's smile vanished, and he forced his will upon the struggling gargoyle. The hand shook violently as the two wills battled, each enhanced by their blood in some way. Drifting up and down, Broadway felt the knife's handle crack in his grip. Fear retreated to anger, and his eyes lit up once more. Solomon gasped in pain as the ceremonial dagger appeared in his chest. Both gargoyles dropped as his spell was broken, but Broadway didn't give him even a second to recover. Landing on his feet, the huge gargoyle slammed his meaty fist into Solomon's face, breaking his nose and spilling blood across his face.

Nick backed against the wall, keeping Hudson back with a whip of fire. They were no longer in the wizard's study, not after Hudson had thrown him clean through the door. Since he had started using magic again, he had discovered that it didn't work as well as before. It was the fear, that dark shadow that loomed over his heart. He was afraid, and it was weakening his spells. Worse yet, the shade seemed to know it. Each swing of the whip was weaker than the last, the flames dimmer and colder than before. Hudson's eyes glinted as the fire flickered and died. With a roar that rattled Nick's mind, Hudson leaped. The shadow knocked Nick's blade away with a single swing, and grabbed him by the neck. He was pressed against the wall as shadow enveloped him. Fear crushed his heart, just as the spell said it would.

Many of the more permanent spells had circumstances that would cause their end, such as the original spell that had locked the gargoyles in stone for a thousand years. Just like the condition that led to the end of that spell, almost every circumstance seemed impossible. The event that would end this spell wasn't impossible, but it was something that Nick didn't want to happen. 'Take the shadows of your heart and make them real. May your fear be all you feel. Until your heart is too afraid to beat, you and your fear shall continue to meet.' Those were the exact words of the spell, and like it said, it would only end after his heart stopped beating.

"Your time's up, lad," Hudson smiled in his face. The shadows that made up his form were flowing around and into the boy, choking the life from him. Cold steel pressed against his stomach, ready to plunge into him. "Now you'll die just as I did."

"No," Nick gasped against the choking shadows, "You didn't die."

"I did," Hudson growled, his eyes drilling into Nick's, "Only minutes ago."

"You were alive when I left," Nick gasped. An idea struck him, allowing him to keep his sanity, "You're not him. You're not him." The sword plunged home. Nick wasn't as strong as Hudson had been, and a cry of pain escaped his lips. Blood ran down his leg and dripped from his mouth as he fell limp.

"Any last words, lad?" the shade asked. It began to fade as his heart began to slow. The boy's eyes looked up dully, their sheen gone.

"I'm sorry," Nick whispered, his voice weak. His eyes closed, and for a second, he didn't breath. When his eyes snapped back open, they were filled with blue fire. Energy licked from the corner of his sockets, like fire kept in a container too small. His aura flared, drifting off of him like water. The shade jerked back as its hand was torn away by the rolling energies. Nick drifted to his feet, standing up straighter than his wounds should have allowed. It was because he could no longer feel them, indeed, they were already healing.

"No!" Hudson roared, holding the stump of his missing hand. "I am your greatest fear! I am spawned from the darkness in your heart. For as long as you feel fear, I will exist!"

Nick's empty eyes turned on him, and the aura only seemed to flare brighter. "I feel nothing," Nick stated, his voice echoing around the room. His hand raised, the rolling energies curling into his palm. The shade used Hudson's voice once more, unleashing a mighty roar as it dove at him, sword bared. Light suddenly blasted from Nick's palm, bathing the room in luminosity. Hudson was caught fully by the radiance. It ate though the shadows, no longer protected by his fear. With a final roar, Hudson drove the sword forward, aiming for the boy's heart. It fell short by inches as the last of the shadows were stripped away. His final cry lingered about the room.

Solomon saw the glow from the other room as Broadway held him against the counter. Though his dose of the sorcerer's blood was bleeding out through the knife wound, he still had enough to pull off a few more spells. With Broadway's hand over his mouth, the blood spells were the only thing he had left. Electricity arced across the gargoyle's body, weakening him sufficiently to escape the iron grasp. He ran forward, chanting a memorized phrase from his spell book. Ghostly animals manifested out of thin air, stampeding though the door. But as Nick stepped across the boundary, the animals passed right through him before disappearing on the other side. Solomon stopped in his tracks, his mouth gaping. His stampede spell was one of his most trusted, but it had utterly failed.

Nick took a step forward, and ice spread from his foot as it touched the ground. The entire room was covered in a second. Any jars left unbroken now burst from the cold as the liquid inside rapidly froze and expanded. Solomon gasped as the cold invaded his body, his amulet rendered completely useless. If a person's magical signature could be compared to their signature on a page, then Nick's signature could only be compared to a wet inkblot. It was impossible to pin down because it changed with every second that passed.

Even the gargoyles, who were immune to the cold, couldn't help but give a shiver. The only person whose breath didn't cloud was Nick, his aura jumping and leaping around him. He took another step forward, and the room seemed to get even colder. "You've used my power to meet your own evil ends," Nick said, his voice overlapping a dozen times over. His hand rose up again, but the palm was up this time, as if he were asking for something. Solomon went ridged with shock as the magic drained from his blood. The energy manifested as a stream of blue, flowing from the wound in Solomon's chest to rejoin Nick's dancing aura. But it was only the blood magic that Nick had taken back, so Solomon looked around in search of his spell book. No sooner had he located it, than it burst into flames amongst the ice. Solomon took step back as Nick took another step forward.

"You've driven me to do this, my boy," Solomon said, pulling a revolver from his jacket. He pointed the pistol at his former student, his face set. Broadway braced to interfere, but Lexington held him back. There was no telling what Nick could do. The gunshot echoed through the room, but Nick did not fall. Hanging in the air before his face, the bullet dropped and clattered to the ground. Solomon aimed the revolver once more, but cried out in pain as the gun melted to slag in his hand.

"Hold onto something." Broadway and Lexington heard the words, but knew that Solomon could not. The larger of the two dug his claws into the stone, while Lexington held onto him, trusting Broadway's strength over his own. "Good bye," Nick echoed. With a wave of his hand, the fabric of time-space tore open, and a black hole opened in the middle of the room. Everything was drawn toward the singularity, and anything that wasn't bolted down was sucked in. Solomon tried to grab hold of one of the counters, but his hand was burnt by molten slag, and the pain prevented him from holding on.

"You're not human, boy!" Solomon shouted as his fingers began to slip, "And neither was your mother!" He too was pulled into the black hole, his scream sounding over all other noise. Slowly, the rift closed, getting smaller and smaller until the space-time tapestry was mended. Only then did Nick collapse to his knees, his aura fading to nothing.

"Is he dead?" Lexington asked, joining him. Nick shook his head. At least, he didn't think Solomon was dead. It had been hard to tell what he was doing, with his mind sundered as it was. It was as if his head had been divided into several different layers, each able to think about a different thing. But while each one had access to seemingly infinite magical knowledge, there were just so many thoughts, too many to keep track of at once. While one of the layers had healed some of his more mortal wounds, another had stopped the bullet while a third had melted the gun. It had been a layer beyond even those that had opened the temporal rift, so Nick had no idea where it led.

Broadway came back into the room after a moment, Hudson's sword in his hand. "Let's get back. You have some potions to make," Broadway said, pointing a talon Nick's way. The sorcerer slowly stood up, holding out his hand. As both gargoyles took hold of it, a single thought crossed his mind. That shade had said that Hudson had died only moments before. But what did it know? Still the thought bothered him, and he couldn't let it go. Even as they teleported to the clock tower, he couldn't get it off of his mind.

They landed in the middle of the large room, a room stricken by grief. Elisa was wrapped in Goliath's wings as she fought back tears. Bronx was going through alternating stages of whimpering and howling. Even Brooklyn's head was hung, his eyes closed tight against reality. In the center of it all lay Hudson's body, turned to stone in the dead of night. Hudson's sword clattered to the stones. Everyone in the room turned to see Broadway fall to his knees. Though no spell was tearing at his soul, his heart pained him even so. This was his father, not only in the clan's meaning of the word, but also in the sense that they were of the same flesh and blood. All because of…

Nick put his hand of the gargoyle's shoulder, trying to offer his sympathy. But how could he, when it was he who dealt the fatal blow. His eyes stung, and he felt sick to his stomach. And when Broadway turned on him, eyes blazing white, he wasn't the least bit surprised. Nor did he fight back when the distressed gargoyle grabbed him by the throat and pressed him against the wall. Never before had Broadway's grip been tighter, and never had his intent been darker. Grief clouded his mind, and blinded him with rage. His hand tightened around Nick's throat, choking the very life from him. Their eyes remained locked, flaming white clashing with deepest blue. Nick's hand slowly came out of his pocket, holding a small vial of black liquid. "I'll fix this," Nick wheezed out, barely a whisper. There was no response in those burning eyes.

Nick slammed the vial into his chest, splattering the dark liquid all over his chest. It sank into his skin, and shredded the connections between his body and soul. The potion was yet another weapon given to him by Solomon, a vial of death to accompany the Sword of Alexander. His spirit was ejected from its mortal coil, a white ghost that walked away from its body. He passed through Broadway's arm as it held his now lifeless body, and began his journey to Hudson's body. Though it was mere feet, the will it took to hold this spirit in this world was tremendous, and it made those feet feel like miles. Brooklyn tried to stop him, but his hands passed right through the white ghost. Finally, he arrived at the stone corpse, frozen with the most peaceful expression he'd ever seen on the elder.

Now it was Nick who fell to his knees, his spirit leaving streaks in the air as it dropped. Ghostly hands rose, positioned over the body. Only then did his soul begin to unwind, turning into a mist that surrounded the statue. "Magicians are power hungry tricksters. That trickery is often reflected in their spells," Nick's voice echoed around the room, coming not from his body; now limp on the floor, but from the very air itself. "I'd like to think that I'm still strait as an arrow, and that my spells reflect that. Like this one. I'm going to use the rest of my magic to pull Hudson's soul back from the beyond. Then I'll use my own life force to bind it back to his body. Simple, no trickery. Just a life for a life."

* * *

Nick appeared in darkness, a tangible shadow that covered everything. It pulsated around him, slithering like a living thing. But in the infinite darkness, there sat a hand. Tanned and leathery, Nick grabbed it knowing that there was only one person it could be. He pulled as hard as he could, pulling as much with his will as with his strength. Instead of the body coming out of the darkness, the shadows retreated as he heaved, until Hudson stood before him once more. "Lad," Hudson gasped for breath, "Where are we?"

"You're dead," Nick said bluntly, looking around as if they were being watched. "But not for long. Listen, death is controlled by the god Anubus, one of Oberon's children. Don't worry, you'll find out who I'm talking about someday. But Anubus only cares about numbers, not faces. So if one wanted to bring someone back from the dead, they would only need to replace that person with another soul."

"No, lad," Hudson said as he realized what the boy was going to do. Memories were flowing back even as the seconds passed, and even though he knew that his death was Nick's doing, he couldn't allow him to follow though with this.

"There's no time," Nick interrupted. Tendrils of darkness were reaching out for him, and he offered no resistance as they slithered around his limbs. "You're going back, and I'm not, whether we like it or not." The darkness closed in on him, covering him like a cloak. But the tendrils were reaching out for Hudson too, reclaiming what had once been theirs. "No! It's not supposed to happen like this!" He now struggled against the shadows, but their hold was stronger that steel. Hudson was almost entirely shrouded again, even his gargoyle strength useless against the hand of death. The darkness filled his vision.

Light broke through. The shadows retreated as two points of light drifted in from either side. They took on a human shape as they came closer, settling on what was considered the ground. Even though the blinding light that the two gave off, they could see them clearly. Tears fell from Hudson's eyes. "My love," he exclaimed, embracing the one on the left. Indeed, it was the female that Nick had seen in Hudson's memories, her radiance wrapping around her husband as they embraced. "My daughter," Hudson then said, turning his hug to the other being. Nick could see the resemblance now, a spitting image of her mother with her father's skin and horns. Only the hand of his wife pulled him away from the embrace.

"We have come for a reason, my love," the being said, her hand drifting down to his. Her voice sounded like music. "Anubus has not yet noticed your presence, so you may still escape. But, Nick, your spell has failed, and only with our help will you be able to return."

"Do not feel bad," the daughter said, "Mortal magic cannot bring back the dead." The darkness had been retreating even as the spoke, and earth waited for them.

"You will not remember this, my love. For you have seen what lies beyond the veil, and if you took that back, it would shatter your mind. But fear not, for we will meet again," Hudson's wife said, stroking his face with a shining hand, "But not for quite some time." Then, the last of the shadow vanished.

* * *

Even as the mist dissipated, they could hear cracking in the silent room. Everyone gathered around Hudson in disbelief as the stone covering his body fell apart and turned to dust. Slowly he sat up, greeted by the joy of his clan. Some hollered and howled, while others had to touch him, just to make sure it was real. But amidst the arm clasping, and the overjoyed embrace of a certain detective, he didn't notice the quiet footsteps of another. Broadway did, and as Nick walked out into the balcony, he followed.

Nick was leaning against the edge of the balcony, his eyes stinging with tears. He rubbed his eyes, trying to fight back what he didn't want to show. "So, how much of my debt did that pay off?" he said with a nervous chuckle. Broadway didn't answer, but moved to stand next to him, looking out into the dawn. Nick lifted up one of the watches that had been cut from his wrist earlier. "There's enough magic in this watch for one more 'port." He looked over at Broadway, his eyes red. "Please tell Hudson that I'm sorry, for-for everything. But I can't face him right now, I just can't." And with that, he was gone. Not five seconds went by before the others came out, drawn by the rising sun.

"It's too bad, lad," Hudson said, putting his hand on Broadway's shoulder. "I just woke up, and now I have to sleep again." He gave his shoulder a good squeeze before retiring to his post. The others took their places as the sun struggled against the horizon, but Elisa stopped Broadway with a firm hand. He turned to face her.

"Before Hudson, before he, you know," Elisa told him, here eyes still a little puffy, "The last thing he said, he asked for you, Broadway. He wanted his son. I just thought you should know that.

"Thank you," Broadway said, truly smiling for the first time that night. It was that smile that was caught in stone as the sun finally graced the sky.


	12. Chapter 12: It's Harder to Talk

Chapter Twelve: It's Harder to Talk

Darkness had settled over New York City, and it was that magical time before the city lit up in the sun's absence. That was when Nick got a knock on his locked door, causing him to cringe. It wasn't that he wasn't expecting the knock; in fact, he would have been more surprised if it hadn't come. But that didn't stop him from wincing at the sound. He turned to his glass door, seeing the monsters beyond. Not surprisingly, it was Hudson's fist that beat against the glass.

Nick made his way to the door almost hesitantly, anxiety filling his shoes with lead. Six pairs of eyes followed him as he made the journey to the door. Finally he made it, and allowed them entrance. He gave Hudson a wide berth as he walked in, the others following close behind. "So, yeah, I've got some chairs set up in the back," Nick said, jerking his thumb to the door behind the counter.

"Who says we're here to sit down?" Brooklyn said, cracking his knuckles. Nick's eyes darted around, looking at all of the other gargoyles, trying to read them though their stony expressions. But he couldn't get anything, even from Elisa.

"Don't talk like that, lad," Hudson said, shooting him a look through his yellowed eye. "Lead the way." Nick nodded sheepishly, the bells jingling as he closed the door. Everyone expected him to teleport across the room, so when he walked across, they exchanged looks. And when the boy approached the counter, only to be blocked by Hudson, his lack of magic was really noticeable. It wasn't like him at all. Nick wormed his way past Hudson, his hand shaking as he lifted the hinged counter. They followed him through to the back, noticing his obvious limp. He had already set up several chairs in a circle, but no one sat down.

"I like new look," Lexington commented, motioning to his face. Nick's face was covered in bandages, butterfly bandages around the cuts on his eyebrows and cheekbones, and a large adhesive bandage over the bullet wound on his cheek. Not only that, but his left arm was wrapped in gauze and he favored his right side. He had stopped at the sound, standing in the middle of the room, his fists clenched tight.

"I'm sorry," Nick said, turning around, "To all of you, but especially to you." He looked directly at Hudson, fighting hard not to let his gaze shy away. "I know words don't mean much, so I'll do whatever it takes to atone for what I've done." The large gargoyle raised one hand and pushed the boy into an empty chair.

"We'll get to that later," Hudson replied. His wings wrapped around him like a cape and he took the seat directly across from the one he had pushed Nick into. "For right now, start explaining. Begin at the beginning." The other gargoyles took seats in the circle, but Elisa just leaned in the doorway, studying the boy as he began.

"When I arrived at the tower, Solomon came up and greeted me. He seemed like his old self, I didn't even suspect anything until Xanatos walked in, and by then it was too lat-" he started, but was quickly cut off by a disapproving grunt.

"I said, 'begin at the beginning' and that's hardly the beginning, now is it, lad?" Hudson said, leaning forward in the chair. Nick looked around once more, then nodded with a small sigh.

"I first detected you guys about a month and a half ago," Nick began again. He was hunched over in his seat, his eyes on the floor. "Right about the time the entire city turned to stone. Magic is my forte, so I noticed it. Kind of hard not too. I spent two nights following that female gargoyle around, fixing all of the people she smashed. She's kind of insane, just saying.

"Otherwise, you guys kept a pretty low profile. Since you were doing more good than harm I didn't really keep tabs. But then I decided to stop by, make myself known, maybe even make some allies. When I saw a couple of you leave that night, I just thought I'd do a little surveillance. But that big clock distracted me and well…Broadway can tell you the rest. Can I jump forward a little?" Hudson nodded.

"Solomon was just like he used to be. A little overbearing, but friendly. But according to what he told me, that was an act. He'd played me for years, just to get my blood. I'm not sure how much Lexington and Broadway told you, but Solomon had been hired by Xanatos to take you guys out. Like an exterminator, it's disgusting. He decided to use me as a tool, so he showed me your memories. Showed me what had happened…way back when. I went through his spell book and found the spell he used on me. The only thing he did was cast an impulse spell on me, in addition to the memory spell. It was entirely my fault. I wanted to kill you; the only thing he did was keep me from moving past that feeling. Heck, I'm not even sure he needed to cast the spell. I'd thought that my father's death was my fault for the longest time, and as far as I'm concerned, it still is. But when I saw it, I was so angry. It all made sense and-and…" Nick's hands slowly unclenched as the blood drained back into his knuckles. He hadn't even noticed how tight they had gotten. There suddenly came a knock at the door, even though his shop was closed. "Pizza's here," he said, standing up again.

"What?" Lexington started, leaping onto the back of his chair, "You ordered pizza?"

"Yeah," Nick answered, making his way to the door. He leaned some of his weight on every steady surface he came across. "You guys haven't eaten since that spaghetti dinner a few nights ago. I'm not totally sure about your eating habits, but I'm sure at least one person will eat it." When he reached the door, he only opened it enough for him to slip out.

"What do you think, old friend?" Goliath asked. He had his own opinions, of course, but this had been his mentor's deal from the beginning.

"There are holes, no doubt about that," Hudson replied, "But let's just let the lad finish his tale. We'll deal with him after that."

"Seven large Loaded Supreme pizzas," came the sound of the delivery woman. "Oh my God," the woman said. She must have just seen the boy's bandages, "What happened to you?"

"I got into a bit of a scuffle," they heard Nick say, "It's nothing, really. If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy." Hudson and Goliath exchanged looks. The course of the evening could very well hinge on what he said next. Any form of dishonor would sour this encounter, as well as their relationship. "He was really big and scary. Now, how much do I owe you?" The elder smiled as he leaned back in the chair. Not a minute later, Nick limped back in, his hands full of pizza boxes. Broadway quickly relieved him of his burden. "Now where was I? Oh yeah…

"So I shot Lex, sorry about that, and I stormed off to come over here. Xanatos stopped me, and Solomon gave me the Sword and that vial of black stuff. Then I went to the clock tower, and, yeah… Those robots, by the way, were not my idea. But that's all I can think of. Broadway and Lexington have probably already told you the rest. I'm sure you have questions."

"Many," Goliath said. He shot Broadway a look, causing the gargoyle to swallow loudly. "Broadway followed you. How?"

"You mean how does a gargoyle with no magical training cast a spell from a page of the Gremorum?" Nick smiled lightly, then pointed to Hudson and then to Broadway. "Father, and son, right? It wasn't that hard to figure out, you guys are basically built the same. Now, you have to understand that I respect the whole 'father of the clan' thing that you guys do, but there's something that you have to understand. There is nothing like a blood tie. It was the blood relation that caused Broadway's will to kick into overdrive and, no offence, but at that time, none of you would have been able to do that. I mean, that just wasn't possible otherwise. Magic is largely about will, and with his will enhanced, he was able to lift the magic off of the page and use it in a way that I'm sure wasn't intended." He stood up, stretching out a cramped leg. "Anything else?"

"Yes, there's quite a bit more," Elisa said, agitation seeping into her voice. "So far you haven't told us anything new. For one thing, you said that you were trading a life for a life last night, yet here you both are."

"I have your wife and daughter to thank for that," Nick said, looking at Hudson. He wasn't ready for the elder's explosive reaction. As Hudson stood up, his wings flaring wide, Nick was knocked right back into his chair.

"What are you talking about, lad?" Hudson growled, taking a large step forward.

"When I tried to pull you back from the other side, it didn't quite work out. Both of our souls would still be there if your significant others had saved out butts. They showed up and sent us home. She said you wouldn't remember," he replied, doing his best to match the stare.

"You lads take your leave," Hudson commanded, grabbing Nick by the shirt and lifting him to his feet.

"Hudson, I understand you're angry, but I can't let you do this," Elisa said, approaching him.

"Don't worry, lass. I only want to talk. But what we're talking about isn't anyone's business but my own." Hudson's wings settled down a little, and he took a step back.

"Come, Elisa," Goliath urged, "I trust him, he will not hurt the boy." She finally nodded and took his outstretched hand. As soon as they were up the steps, and the door to the roof closed, Hudson collapsed into a chair.

"Are you alright?" Nick asked, standing up so quickly that his legs very nearly gave out from under him.

"Fine, lad, fine," Hudson pinched the bridge of his nose. "I want to know everything about what happened on this 'other side.' Everything." Nick nodded, sitting back in his seat. So he told everything that happened, explaining it in as much detail as he could. While he had taken a few knocks to the head, he wasn't stupid, and he knew what this was about. So he talked about the two late females as much as he could, describing everything he could think of. He described sound of their voice, what they looked like, but especially how they had interacted with Hudson. Though out his tale, he could see the gargoyle across from him fighting off what seemed like some pretty strong emotions. But not once did Hudson break down, all thanks to years upon years spent hardening his heart. "That's enough, lad," he finally said, holding up one tan hand. They both stood up, and Hudson put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Just one more question. Why were you so willing to sacrifice yourself, lad?"

"Because I owed it to you," Nick explained, but the elder's look told him that his explanation wasn't good enough. "It's basic math," he said, turning away and walking to the table where he fixed his watches. He picked up one of his fake Rolexes, the band still severed from last night, "You're old, I get it. But you're old according to gargoyle terms. You've still got a good, what? Sixty, seventy years? That's not the case for me. This blood that runs through my veins, the same blood that gives me these powers, also burns me. The older I get, the faster I age. Ha, I'll be lucky if I make it to fifty. But you want to know what the real kicker was? Your sixty years will be spent with those guys, up there. Your family. My time will be spent alone. You tell me, which is the life better spent?" He looked up with a small smile. "But, hey, that's not the case is it? We both survived. And when I get my powers back, I'll put my memories in your head for a change. That way, you can remember your wife and daughter."

"Lost your powers? You lost your magic, lad?" Hudson repeated in surprise. He'd faced magicians several times in the past, and he never thought that he'd feel bad for a mage who'd lost his magic.

"Yeah, you overuse 'em, you lose 'em. I figure I've got three weeks before I can cast even the most simple of spells, and another four before I'm back to full power," Nick said offhandedly. He dropped the watch and leaned against the table. "Listen, I can't say it enough, I'm sorry."

"You said so yourself, lad, words don't mean much, so stop saying them," Hudson replied. "Now you listen to me, until you get your magic back, you've got the protection of the clan."

"No, I can't accept that," Nick said with a weak shake of his head, "Not after what I've done."

"After what you've done," Hudson shot back, using the boy's own thoughts against him, "You don't have the right to deny me anything." Nick couldn't help but smile at the rhetoric. For once in his life, he was speechless. An offer like this, could Hudson really be forgiving him? To his utter surprise, the gargoyle put out his hand and they clasped wrists. "You don't mind if I'm taking this?" Hudson asked, picking up Solomon's spell book as he made for the stairs. Though the edges were blackened, the book was mostly intact. "I'm thinking Broadway deserves a trophy." Nick nodded with a smile, still a little dumbstruck. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow, lad," Hudson said before he disappeared up the stairs.

* * *

'I've waited two weeks for this,' the robber thought as he looked though the glass windows of the clock shop, 'It's time to get my balls back.' He slowly approached the door, pulling a pistol from his jacket. It was about ten thirty pm, and he'd been watching the place for hours. No one had entered or left since the shop had closed at eight o'clock, so he figured that it was safe. While he wanted his pride back, he wasn't stupid, and he had done his best to make sure that the monster was gone. Now was the time. Using the butt of the weapon as a club, he smashed door's window. As pieces of glass clattered to the floor, he reached in though the empty space and unlocked the door from the inside.

Just as he crossed the threshold, the door behind the counter opened and that damn punk walked through. "You so much as twitch, and I'll blow your brains all over the wall. Now we're going to do this the right the right way, so give me the money," the robber demanded. Yeah, that felt good. The boy walked over to the cash register, rolling his eyes as the drawer opened. "What is it?" the robber growled.

"I've put the money in the back already," he said, scratching at a bandage on his cheek.

"Well then," the robber ordered, walking around the counter and prodding him with the gun, "Let's go back and get it." With the barrel of the weapon pressed into the boy's back, they both walked into the back room. Two chairs were set up in the middle of the room, with a glass of some kind of drink on the floor in front of each. "Who else is he-" was all he managed to get out. Hudson came from behind the open door, grabbing and crushing the gun before the robber could even think. An elbow smashed into his stomach, and he doubled over in pain. Then, a tan hand grabbed him by the face and tossed him like a piece of trash up and over the counter. He landed in the middle of the show floor, and wasted no time in getting to his feet and running for his life. As he looked over his shoulder, he saw a pair of white eyes glowing back at him. One thing was for sure; he wasn't coming back, because not even his balls were worth facing that thing again.

"That was enough excitement for one night, don't you think, lad," Hudson said as the light drained from his eyes. He took his seat, picking up the large glass of iced tea.

"Yeah, really. Looks like I'll be ordering a new window tomorrow morning. Anyway, you were telling me about your friend, the author?" Nick said as he took his seat.

"Ah, yes, Robbins…"

* * *

**Hey all, that's the final chapter. Just like all of those 'I saw it in theaters but I should have waited to see it on DVD' movies, I've left it open for a possible sequal, should the fan's want one. But judging by the number of reviews I've gotten, I'm not sure that's going to happen. But we'll see, won't we? Hope everyone enjoyed it. Until next time, all.**


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